


Against the Tide

by Sapphylicious



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Aomine and Kuroko almost die a lot and save each other a lot, M/M, Merpeople, no sea turtles were harmed in the making of this story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-24 07:48:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1597169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphylicious/pseuds/Sapphylicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of a shipwrecked smuggler and the merman who tried to kill him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy AoKuro Day/Week/Month 2014! I give the gift of mer!Kuroko.

All men contemplated their own deaths at least once, and when those men happened to lead adventurous lives the possibilities were as numerous as they were imaginative. At 20 years of age, running strong on the hot blood of reckless daring, Daiki had his share of scenarios. He even had preferences. 

Having never fully gotten over the heroic ideals of his boyhood, he liked to think he'd go out in a blaze of swashbuckling glory, something to be sung about in drunken revelry by tavern fires as the ale flowed freely and the barmaids were generous with their attentions. Some of the patrons would curse his name, but they'd curse it with grudging respect. "That tenacious bastard," they'd say. "Fought like the devil to the very end. There was no stoppin' him. May he be livin' it up now in hell."

Yes, that would be a good way to be remembered; Aomine Daiki, hellacious and unstoppable. It was certainly preferable to the inglorious and much more likely end that he always thought was in store for him. He'd seen enough hangings and the gruesome, days-old rot of their aftermath to know what kicking the air would entail. In such a scenario, he could only hope it would happen in a town far, far away from home, where Satsuki's eyes had no chance of landing upon the sight of his swaying corpse.

There were other possibilities, some of them more outlandish than others. Once Daiki had found himself shoved on the brink of a third-story window, and had briefly envisioned his demise splattered upon the pavestones below (much to the surprise of the passerbys). He'd escaped that one, but there was also always the chance of a knife coming at him in the dark, his body left to bleed out in an alley or dumped unceremoniously into the river. There were even some days when he would swear his hangover would be the death of him.

Not once, though, had Daiki imagined this: adrift at sea on a bobbing piece of the _Horikita's_ hull with the sun baking him in his skin and zero provisions to sustain him. He was going to die starving and parched, with the taste of salt on his cracked lips. It was either that or drown, a choice between bleached bones or fish food. Ah, but as a fun third option, he could end it quick with a single stroke of the knife tucked inside his boot. He had yet to decide which of these scenarios was the least pathetic.

Daiki blamed it all on the pirates. As if running afoul of an imperial patrol ship hadn't been bad enough, the _Horikita_ might've been able to handle the small sloop if not for the appearance of a swaggering pirate brig joining the party. Rather than fight a battle on two fronts, Daiki and the crew opted to turn and run as fast as the wind could take them, but as ill luck would have it their hurried course took them straight into stormy waters where towering waves smashed Daiki's precious _Horikita_ apart.

He doubted any other members of the crew had survived. They'd been a small operation, but he wouldn't have called any of them friends. He mourned them as much as he mourned the loss of their cargo—maybe even less, knowing the reputation of the client they'd been working for. Not that he had to worry about the consequences for losing the goods when he was unlikely to ever see port again.

There was nothing to see out here except for the expanse of water stretching for miles to meet a faraway horizon. The sun was a blinding light overhead, painting the backs of Daiki's eyelids bright. The monotonous lapping of waves droned in his ears. 

He guessed he had a mere couple of days left to live. What a truly dismal way to die. There was nothing for him to do but count the hours as the sun crept across the sky and review the morbid options at his disposal.

_Madness,_ he thought. _There's a new one._ His least favorite, though. The knife was looking better and better.

A rough bump to the underside of his makeshift raft interrupted Daiki's gloomy contemplation. 

"Perfect," he rasped, the word scratching raw up his throat. "Sharks _would_ be more exciting." With the energy of one who didn't have anything else left to lose, Daiki pulled himself upright to peer over the slightly curving, jagged edge of wood. Water slapped up at his face, harmless, and the waves continued their unending roll underneath his raft.

The back of his neck prickled with more than a crust of salt. Proving that his speed had yet to fail him, his knife was in his hand in a flash while he twisted, scanning the movement of the sea. 

Nothing else stirred.

Daiki shifted his weight, and then a great force slammed into one side of the raft from below. The piece of wood flipped, and the sky fell away as the sea came up to greet him with a briny embrace. 

He thrashed his limbs against the pull of it, but his fingers only skimmed the surface before he was dragged under. There was a weight towing him by the foot that refused to be shaken off. A stream of bubbles escaped from Daiki's mouth as he cursed fruitlessly, then thought better of it and sealed his lips shut. He kicked, but to no avail. Daiki quickly sank.

He looked down, seeing a long, pale shape cutting through dark water. A sudden chill sank into his bones as he recalled all manner of sailor's tales about monsters lurking in the depths, tales of luminous water spirits big enough to capsize boats and drown humans for the sheer malevolence of it. There was a way to dispel them, but the weird ways of magic required equally bizarre materials, and pity he did not have a witch doctor in his pocket.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ he chanted in his head, kicking harder, but the thing's hold on him never faltered. Then Daiki remembered the knife still clutched in his hand. It might not be much use, but it was better than nothing. And he much preferred a death where he went down fighting, even if no one would sing about it after.

He curled close, where swift, rushing movement churned rhythmically by his face. Scales gleamed in the closing darkness. Daiki thrust at it, spirit or serpent or whatever it was, with the knife. His aim was off, the water slowing his strike, but scaled flesh swerved into the path of the blade anyway and then lashed to the side. A heavy and solid weight rammed against Daiki's head.

More bubbles burst from his mouth as he grunted, accidentally sucking in seawater. In a desperate move he stabbed downward in the general vicinity of the grip on his boot, praying that he wouldn't puncture his own foot. The tip of his knife bit into something and he was relatively sure he still had all his toes afterward. _Finally_ , the hold on him loosened, and Daiki wasted no time. 

He stuck the blade between his teeth to better pump his arms towards the surface. _Shit_ —it had gotten really far, the light of the sun a faint haze that blurred around the edges of his vision. Every muscle in his body burned. His lungs spasmed for air.

Drowning, Daiki decided, was ruled out of his list of possible deaths in the foreseeable future. With that determination in mind he kept on kicking until he broke the surface, arms flailing, and almost lost his knife in a fit of sputters. Fisting the weapon, he coughed and spat out saltwater in between dragging in gulps of air.

His blood buzzed with the aftershocks of his near-miss. Daiki couldn't help but laugh at himself. Soon enough the exhilaration would drain away, leaving his limbs heavy and ever-quickly weakening once again. His pitiful raft was still nearby, waiting for him to resume his slow wasting away.

Why had he even bothered?

He had trouble with the concept of defeat, that was the thing. Daydreaming of the glorious burnout was all well and good, but given the opportunity he was more likely to struggle and grasp at any chance to live another day.

Resigned to his own stubborn nature, Daiki clambered up onto the raft again. He rolled onto his back and slung an arm over his face, breathing deeply, and thinking of the irony if he was to pass away peacefully in his sleep out here.

#

A long while later Daiki awoke on land. Waves sloshed over his legs but his raft had beached on a stretch of sand—blessedly firm and dry under his unsteady feet as he hauled his raft out of reach of the tide. There were no boats or other signs of human life along the shore, and he couldn't tell from here how big the island was. He didn't think he'd been near any of the major landmasses to have washed ashore someplace convenient, but there were innumerable small fishing villages that would suffice. He checked to make sure his knife was easily reachable in his boot holster, and made his way into the thick green of vegetation that sprouted further up.

Hours later—well into the afternoon—the good news was he hadn't run into any large predators or unfriendly locals. The bad news was he hadn't found any locals at all, nor a source of fresh water. There was no shortage of coconuts, though, so Daiki shimmied up a tree to reach a cluster and cut them loose. They were young and green, yielding plenty of sweet water after being cut open. He also helped himself to some starfruit he came across, though they were unripe and sour.

"Okay," he said to himself while sitting on an outcrop and picking through the bits of rock scattered about. The island seemed to be sheer cliffs on one end, curving downward in a crescent shape with the beach at the other end. "Okay," he repeated, and it was weird to talk to himself but he felt that he could use some convincing, and Satsuki and Taiga weren't there to do it for him. "I have water and fruit. I can catch fish and maybe some other critters around here. So I won't be starving anytime soon. That's good. I can build shelter." Maybe a boat, too, if he wanted to venture out onto the sea again. He pushed the thought away to come back to it later. "All things considered, it's not the worst situation to be in." Yeah, he'd keep telling himself that.

Daiki eyed a sharp piece of quartz and struck it with the back of his knife. Once. Twice. Several more times, over and over until his hands ached, and finally, sparks flew. He breathed out slowly. "And I have fire. Good. Great."

Now he just had to hope he didn't go mad all alone in the middle of nowhere.

#

Night fell, and Daiki planned to sleep under the stars. With his luck he'd be rained on, but he couldn't be bothered to build a roof over his head just yet. He turned his cheek into the crook of his arm and closed his eyes.

He hadn't quite managed to drift off before a faint melody teased his ears. It wove between the rustle of palm leaves and echoed off the cliffs above. There were no words, and he couldn't even be sure if it was a human voice, but if it _was_ …

Daiki rose to his feet, and strained to follow the sound. The moon was full or close to it, shedding ghostly light upon the underbrush as he wandered through. He thought about calling out, but unease clamped tight fingers around his throat and stopped him in his tracks when the closer he got to the song, the more certain he was that it wasn't a human singing it. No mere human voice could produce that kind of haunting resonance, medium-pitched and somehow… forlorn.

Daiki paused mid-turn, and listened. The song reached for him, entreating, and he was sure it was saying something, but if there were words he couldn't understand them. There was only a sense of helplessness.

 _Well, shit._ Daiki began to inch forward again, eyes scanning the jungle. He was nearly on top of the source of the song. _Satsuki always did say I could never leave well enough alone. Maybe whatever it is can help me get off this island._ Daiki snorted softly to himself. A guy could dream.

"Hey," he spoke up, straightening as he looked around. "Is anyone—"

He stepped, but his foot went through a fern and met with nothing but air. Daiki had time to swear viciously as he pitched sideways into a yawning hole.

A gleam was all the warning he got before hitting the water with a splash. He tasted salt, spat it out when he heaved to the surface, and resumed his string of increasingly colorful profanity as he treaded in the middle of a cavernous pool.

Daiki paused for breath, fully capable of continuing for a long while more, but the flame of his rage guttered out when a voice behind him remarked, "Too noisy…"

He twisted around. Half-hidden in the shadow of the grotto was a wide, flat rock sitting in the center of the pool. Something moved on top of it. Moonlight flashed silver upon the scaled length of a tail unfurling to flick at the water. "You again," the voice said in a flat tone. "If you're going to kill me, hurry up and get it over with."

Daiki gaped at the familiar sight of those scales. "You—wait a minute— _you_ tried to kill _me_!"

The tail swishing in the water stilled. "So I did," the voice said, but it sounded cautious now. "You can understand me?"

"Well, you're talking, aren't you?" Daiki kicked, pushing himself backward without taking his eyes off the shape on top of the rock. Eventually he bumped into sand and dragged himself out of the water. He got his feet under him and let his hand hover near his boot knife.

The creature hardly seemed to notice, or didn't care if it did. "Strange," it said to itself, tail stirring the water again in slow circles.

The scales, the song, they came together and Daiki shook his head. "Merfolk," he muttered, glancing up and down the tiny beach, but aside from the opening above there was no other way out. "Y'know, I heard the stories, but the song wasn't what I expected. Thought it'd be more…" Not more beautiful, because it had certainly been that. And irresistible in a peculiar way. "Magical?" he tried. Ferns and leafy vines climbed all along the cave walls, up to the lip of the opening. He tugged on them but they were far too delicate to hold his weight. Palm trees grew in a cluster directly beneath the hole, but weren't tall enough to reach the top. _I'm so fucked._

He wasn't sure if the creature would respond, and for a strained moment it said nothing, but eventually came a grudging answer: "That song wasn't meant for you."

"Well, I didn't _mean_ to hear it, it was just kinda there—"

"But if you want to hear a spellsong…"

"No! No, that's okay, I'm good without!"

The tail splashed a little louder, mocking.

Daiki sighed, sinking to the ground with his back to a tree. He was as safe as he could get, this far from the water's edge. Not that he could do much if the merman did decide to enchant him. _Is he beautiful?_ Daiki wondered, peering at the thick shadows to no avail. _They're supposed to be beautiful._

Merfolk were rare creatures, to the point where some considered them mere myth. But he'd heard stories in his line of work. The price they could fetch on the black market was no myth. _Just my luck. Trapped in a cave with a fortune and no means to cash it in, if I even live through the night_.

_Wait._

Daiki sat up, struck by inspiration. "Hey, how did you get in? I'm assuming you didn't fall from the sky like I did."

"Obviously." But the merman wasn't any more forthcoming than that.

"Oh, come on. What was it you said, 'if you're going to kill me, hurry up and get it over with'? Either put me out of my misery or let me go."

"I wouldn't recommend it, unless you're capable of breathing underwater."

"Damn." He fell back and fisted a handful of sand in frustration. "Maybe you should just kill me then."

"I'll think about it."

"Thank you _ever_ so much, Your Highness."

"Shall I sing you to sleep?" Wicked, contrary thing.

Daiki slouched down, glaring at the shadowy figure. "Fuck you."

An amused chuckle echoed in the cavern.

#

Daiki blinked awake to sunlight filtering through palm fronds and dappling the sand. He had a crick in his neck that ached sharply when he rolled his head, and his throat was parched once again, but he was alive to see yet another day (for however much it was worth).

_I wonder how long a guy can live off coconuts…_

There might be fish in the pool. Fish other than the half-aquatic creature sprawled across an algae-covered rock that together made up the centerpiece of the grotto. The merman had his back to Daiki as if he couldn't care less about the human in his presence. 

Daylight revealed the true color of his scales to be iridescent blue, like the sky reflected on water. They shimmered clean and bright. A handful of them were worth enough to feed a family for a year. He'd seen merfolk scales being sold at an auction once, and the bidding had been fierce. Scales, hair, blood, and even flesh—if it was part of one of the merfolk, it was a commodity.

In retrospect, Daiki couldn't blame the merman for attacking him on sight.

Translucent fins fanned out from the end of the long tail that gently swirled in the water, but it was hard to tell if that meant he was awake or not. He wasn't moving otherwise. The scales climbed up over his hips and became scattered around the waist, where pale skin stretched over a lean back. There was a stiff, scaly ridge making a stubby protrusion at the base of his spine, like some sort of vestigial dorsal fin. Short hair covered part of his nape, and pieces of it fluffed out at haphazard angles where it had dried.

Strips of seaweed clung to his body. He shifted, and a clump slid off, revealing the red, open line of a gash in his tail.

 _Oh_ , Daiki thought, the meaning of the merman's words from last night becoming clear. The wound was longer and deeper than he thought it should have been—the blade of his knife was only a few inches long and it hadn't been a very good hit—but the sliced flesh had probably pulled open while swimming.

So they were in the same boat, then, facing futures both bleak and short.

He'd never imagined dying alongside such a strange companion, that was for certain.

"Admiring your handiwork?"

The long line of the merman's body rolled sinuously as he turned, displacing more seaweed. There was another cut in the upper flesh of his arm. He had a young face, carefully blank of expression with eyes heavily lidded from sleep—or more likely, from blood loss.

Daiki crossed his arms. "I'm not gonna apologize if that's what you're angling for. I was defending myself. _You_ attacked first. It's not like I was a threat, floating there all by my lonesome."

There was a loud noise as the merman's tail slapped the water, though his face didn't betray any emotion. "Nothing good comes when humans are involved. Where there's one, more will follow." Nonchalantly, he gathered the seaweed and dragged it through the water until it was dripping, and wound some of it around his arm. The rest he pressed to his tail.

"More—you mean, other people might actually come by?" Daiki might find a way off this godforsaken island yet.

"If I don't kill you first," the merman reminded him, but the threat didn't carry the same weight as it had the night before.

The light of day and the slim hope of survival revived Daiki's brashness. "If you haven't yet, you probably won't later."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I said _probably_." He examined the grotto's walls, but they were as solid as they'd been at night, with no secret crevices that might lead to a way out. There were places that could serve as foot and handholds, but the curve of the ceiling around the hole wasn't very promising. Still, at the moment it appeared to be his best bet.

"You'll break your fool neck that way," the merman said after observing him for a while. Daiki was a few feet off the ground, face pressed to the rock as he searched for a place to grab onto.

"Well, what else am I supposed to do?" He spat out a leaf that had fallen into his mouth, fingers groping along rough stone. "Yell until someone hears me?"

"Or you could wait for the tide to go out."

Daiki froze, plastered all over the wall like a giant spider, and twisted his neck to stare at the merman. "What?"

"The tide," he repeated innocently. "When it goes out, there will be enough air in the passageway for you to make it through. If you hadn't slept until midday you could have left this morning."

"And… just when were you going to tell me this?"

The merman—insufferable little _shit_ —flicked his tail and shrugged. "Just now."

There was little Daiki could do but fume impotently as he clambered down and stalked to the pool's edge, finding that yes, there did appear to be a passage on the far side of the grotto where the water level was starting to lower. In a couple hours there would be plenty of air in the tunnel for him to wade through to freedom. Supposedly. Daiki narrowed his eyes on the merman. "How do I know this isn't a trick?"

"So suspicious." The merman sighed. "It doesn't matter to me what you believe, so do what you want." He rolled over again to face the other way, apparently done with the conversation.

Daiki thought about nagging him some more out of spite, but with freedom so close at hand, perhaps it was best to avoid angering the creature that could still very easily kill him.

#

The afternoon was a busy one, and largely frustrating. Tying his knife to the end of a trimmed sapling, Daiki spent most of the time attempting to spear fish in the shallows, which was much easier said than done. They didn't make for cooperative targets, vanishing the moment the water was disturbed. Sometimes he'd stab one only for it to squirm off the blade and leave a fading red cloud in the water as it escaped.

Daiki put "make a net" on his list of things to do. It was a short list, mainly consisting of "find food," "make fire," and "don't die."

He did manage to keep some fish in the end: a yellow-tailed snapper, a small jack, and a ladyfish he would have thrown away if he hadn't been so hungry. He carried them back to what he'd arbitrarily decided was his camp and went about his next order of business: starting a fire.

It took a few dozen tries to strike a spark from his piece of quartz and the steel of his knife, and then more often than not the spark failed to be coaxed into a flame. Daiki prayed and cursed in intervals, neither of which had any noticeable effect. The sky was getting dark by the time his tinder finally lit, and at last, he got a decent fire going. Daiki threaded his fish onto sticks and stabbed them into the sand at the edge of the pit. The smell of meat cooking was heavenly. He cracked open a coconut and sat back, more exhausted than relaxed.

Not long after, he heard a familiar song drift through the air.

Daiki tensed, but the sound incited no compulsion in him, no feeling but his own wariness. For whatever reason, the merman wasn't intent on enchanting him. _Maybe I'm not his type._ Daiki paused in checking on his dinner, finding himself vaguely affronted by the thought. Then he scoffed. _Whatever. It's not like he's my type, either._ He liked them soft and eager, perfumed women with fully rounded breasts and shapely, inviting legs, or the occasional man with a pretty mouth and talented hands. Murderous half-fish didn't do anything for him, not with those big, lidded eyes, the sleek lines of muscle following the curve of a naked back, and that positively _evil_ sense of humor…

"Damnit," Daiki muttered, but he couldn't be too hard on himself. Who could blame him when merfolk were involved?

He gobbled up his dinner (even the overly pungent ladyfish), and with a satisfied belly laid back atop a bed of palm leaves to stare at the flicker of shadows dancing with the firelight. The stars were blocked by the canopy overhead.

He should have been on his way home with a full ship of cargo where he'd be welcomed back by a liberal sum of money and Satsuki's familiar nagging. She'd deliver a stinging smack to the upside of his head and then hug him like it was the end of days, and all the while Taiga would be standing there to the side, grumbling about how much Daiki had made her worry, being gone this long.

Stupid Dai-chan.

Inconsiderate bastard.

He'd bear with their abusive affection until it bordered on something uncomfortably emotional, and then offer to buy celebratory drinks with his earnings. They would threaten to bleed him dry in one fell swoop. Taiga would go under the table first, but Daiki and Satsuki could keep going well into the night for whatever dumb reason—like trying to make Satsuki laugh so hard the drink sprayed out her nose. She'd get him back by challenging him to beat her at her own game with the cherry stem trick. He always lost, and usually got a bitten tongue for his efforts.

Satsuki and Taiga, his oldest friends, miles and miles away. They'd really start worrying when his ship never came in after another week or two.

 _I can't believe the Horikita is sunk._ Daiki concentrated his thoughts around the beloved ship and his ire regarding its loss. He'd had to fight tooth and nail to get the captain to agree to the name. He may not have been in charge, but he was the best, and the group grudgingly catered to his occasional whim because they needed him.

Come to think of it, when he got back (when, not if), he'd have to find a new job. Harasawa had tried to recruit him once, and would probably still take him, but there were rumors of his dealing with pirates. Daiki may not have much moral high ground to stand on, but he'd made a promise to Satsuki. He bought, bartered, and smuggled. He was a liar and a cheat. No one would have called him a peace-loving man. But he never stole. It was a silly exception perhaps, a product of childhood naïveté, but it was a rule he stuck by all these years.

On the other hand, if pirates came ashore tomorrow, Daiki would probably be okay with signing on if only they got him home.

The merman's song echoed his yearning, wordless and melancholy as it sank into the depths of the night. Daiki was sure of its meaning now, sure that the merman was curled on that rock and tending his wounds, singing, _someone_ , _help me, I want to go home_.

#

On the third day of his unwanted island vacation, Daiki sharpened his spearing stick and carved a barb near the end so the fish wouldn't slip off. He had better luck catching his meal that way and successfully nabbed a bunch of palometas in the morning, in addition to finding a live conch on the beach. While the fish were oily and the conch meat was tough, at least he was eating well. He'd also seen numerous large rodent-like creatures scurrying through the trees and underbrush, though he had yet to devise a way to catch them, and fruit remained plentiful.

He did his best to maintain his fire during the day, partly because it was a pain in the ass to start all over again once it went out, and also in hopes that a passing ship might come to investigate the smoke.

Nightfall came again, and it wasn't until after he'd eaten and was sharpening his knife out of boredom that he realized he couldn't hear any singing. Daiki cocked his head and listened intently, but the sea breeze carried not even a whisper of the voice he swore he'd heard deep into his dreams last night, weaving a lullaby that plucked at the homesick stirrings in his heart.

Maybe a friend had answered the call and the merman had gone home, the lucky bastard.

Or maybe he simply didn't feel like singing tonight.

…Maybe he was too weak to sing, or was even already…

Daiki gave his head a forceful shake and his whetstone resumed its grinding. There was no way that spiteful creature would die so easily, and anyway, its fate was none of his concern.

#

_Damn it all._

It really was none of his concern, but the next day was as uneventful as the last and thought plagued him, hovering like the buzzing of flies in the back of his mind. After some searching he found the hole where he'd fallen in before, which to be fair was hard to see even under a cloudless, sunny sky. The lip of the opening sunk inwards and was partially obscured by vegetation. He took care to avoid another plunge while inching closer, but all he could see from there was the pool of water sparkling in the sunlight.

There was only one way to be sure. He called out, "You still alive down there?"

The reply was slow to come, but eventually an answer floated up with an echo from the cave. "…Noisy as ever."

"And you're ungrateful. After I went out of my way to check on you, all worried for your wellbeing." Daiki hunkered down in the grass, swatting leaves away from his face.

"You're just bored. I'm your only entertainment."

"Well, I'm yours, so we'll call it even."

"You're hardly what I'd consider decent company."

"You're not exactly my first pick either!" Scowling, Daiki searched around for something to throw. He pried a stone loose from the earth and sent it whizzing through the hole with enough force to make a satisfying splash down below.

The merman chose not to remark on that stunning display of maturity, but the silence was judgmental enough on its own.

"So tell me," Daiki said after the diversion of his tantrum wore off, "is it true mermen carry their young in a pouch or is that just an old fishwives' tale?" He waited for the inevitably scathing retort.

And waited.

Daiki had never been the patient sort. "If it's that ridiculous, just say so, don't ignore me."

No response came from the grotto. It could be a spiteful silence, or something else. Daiki crawled forward, hands careful to find dirt and not air as he neared the hole. "I'll come down there again, I'm warning you. You think I'm annoying _now_ …"

He could just barely see the jut of the merman's rock if he flattened himself to the ground, as close as he dared to get. There was a glimpse of delicate fins trailing limp in the water, with no fluttering sign of mood to indicate wakefulness or even life.

"Shit," Daiki breathed out, chest heavy with disappointment. Slowly, finding his limbs reluctant to cooperate, he pushed away from the hole. He got as far as sitting up, head tipped back to stare unfocused at the blur of light around the trees. "I guess that's that, then. Well… shit." 

A flintlock burst of anger got him to stand. He turned to return to camp, but never took the first step. Instead he stood there, clenching his jaw until it ached, hands tightening into fists that longed to hit something.

Maybe he was just that bored, or that desperate. Maybe it really was the beginning of madness setting in. Rational thought had no part in the pressure that exploded from him, tearing loose with a teeth-baring snarl and taking him right up to the cut of the hole's edge.

"I'm sick of this," he said, and meant it with startling clarity. Survival was a mere necessity, basic and low. Living, though, that was asking for a fight, and it was a fight Daiki would gladly throw himself into. 

He started by taking a jump. The pool below was a shock of cold piercing through the numbness that had taken hold of him. 

At first he thought the merman twitched as he swam up to the rock, and half-expected to be greeted with a lash of both tail and words, but the shivers wracking the creature's frame were nothing so violent or voluntary. His human skin was clammy with sweat rather than seawater. Oppositely, the scales of his lower half were cool, but their sheen appeared duller than Daiki remembered.

For a moment Daiki floundered in the foreignness of the situation. He only barely knew how to treat humans, let alone fish.

That was when the merman's eyes fluttered open, the blue of his irises fever-bright and questioning as he took in the sight of Daiki by his side. The corners of his mouth pulled in a disapproving frown.

"Yeah, yeah," Daiki said before the merman could form whatever protest he had in mind. "Look, just tell me what you need."

A few seconds passed while the merman continued to stare at him as if he couldn't be sure Daiki was serious. Then, with irritating fatalism, he let his eyes close and said, "I believe I recall making a request for a quick death."

 _Yeah, but no._ "I was thinking more along the lines of food, or…" Daiki didn't know where else to start. His knowledge of herbal medicine couldn't even be called rudimentary, so he was as likely to poison the patient as not. Wounds he could dress or sew up if needed, though. That was a thought.

Daiki lifted the dried bunches of reddish-brown seaweed and grimaced at what was revealed. "No wonder you're in such bad shape. The arm's all right, but the big one down here is infected."

"And whose fault is that?"

"I'm still not sorry. Hey, careful!" Daiki laid a firm hand on the tail that had started to snap at him. The normally powerful muscle flexed weakly under his palm. "You're gonna make it worse!"

"Reflex," the merman said, body going still more out of exhaustion than agreement. "Just kill me, this is tiresome."

"Don't wanna." Daiki soaked the seaweed and wrapped it anew around the injured arm, tying it securely rather than leaving it loose as it had been before. Then he turned his attention to the tail.

The wound was longer than the length of his hand, starting halfway down the tail and curving from the side around to the back. It was aggravated from movement, scales peeling and flaking off to expose red and swollen flesh underneath. Fluid leaked from a broken crust of scabbing.

None of this seemed to distress the merman overmuch. Instead he was annoyingly resigned to dying. "I assure you, my carcass is still worth plenty of gold, and waiting until I'm good and dead would be significantly more convenient for both of us." He continued to shiver, but showed no signs of pain even when Daiki prodded at the wound to make it drain better and scooped seawater over the mess.

"Thanks for the concern, Your Highness, but I'm still gonna say no."

"Don't tell me you never even thought about selling me off."

"Are you kidding? Of course I did." When the wound was clean—or at least cleaner than it had been—Daiki pressed wet seaweed over it. "But if I have to be stranded on this goddamn island, I'm not gonna be stranded alone. So you're stuck with me, get used to the idea." He needed something to bandage the tail with and made do with the shirt off his back, tearing the worn fabric into strips.

The merman was watching him again from heavy-lidded eyes. A small wrinkle had formed on his brow. "For all you know, this could be a useless effort."

"Maybe so," Daiki agreed, bending to wash the blood and pus from his hands. The water level was rising with the tide and creeping up on the rock, but would stop short of covering it completely. "But you don't know that for sure."

"Do you think saving me means I will owe you?"

He hitched his shoulder in half a shrug. "Depends on you I guess. Are merfolk honorable or treacherous? Doesn't really matter to me either way."

A quiet huff of breath. "You are dangerously unconcerned about all this."

Daiki grinned. "Life's fun that way."

"I'm not sure you understand the value of your own life."

"I know a lot about value in my line of work."

"Ah," the merman said, voice taking on a hard edge. "A pirate, then."

"Wrong." Daiki flicked water at him, more for the gesture than the effectiveness. "Quit assuming things, it's getting on my nerves." He got to his feet and splashed to the lip of the rock, eyeballing the water's rise and then the merman's placid form. "If I leave to catch dinner, will you at least try not to die out of spite before I get back?" He wouldn't put it past the contrary creature.

"…Return with something decent and I could acquiesce to that request."

Daiki rolled his eyes and folded in an extravagant play-actor's bow. "As you wish, Highness."

#

The merman yet lived when Daiki returned that evening, but was less than impressed with his mixed catch of blue runners and bar jacks, and flat-out refused the turtle Daiki had found shuffling along the beach. He said something about sea turtle grudges and looked away as it was carved up. Daiki didn't care if he was going to be afflicted with some weird turtle curse for this; he was hungry, and almost as interested in the shell as he was in the meat. After getting a fire started and prying the carapace off, he cleaned it out while the meat cooked until he had a makeshift bowl.

Criticism of the meal aside, the merman's lack of appetite meant he only picked at the little fish. He nibbled on them raw, spitting the occasional bone but not minding the scales that stuck shiny and bloody to his skin. 

He was unexpectedly chatty. It might have been the fever talking, but he described the reefs of his homeland, all crystal clear water with fantastic twists of vibrant coral, huge, soft beds of anemone, and secret caves lined with glowing algae. He mentioned his family and friends in passing, then got sidetracked by a detailed explanation on how to identify a certain breed of spiny fish whose poison caused intense hallucinations. Then he went on for a while about the artistry of shell patterns more valuable than silver and gold. 

"And pearls," he murmured, lounging prone on the rock, "you humans are obsessed with pearls. I admit they're of some worth, especially the multicolored ones, but they hardly merit the greedy droves that come to acquire them."

Daiki boiled water in the empty turtle shell, taking the risk that some of the seaweed he'd collected was edible and not poisonous. "I guess that means you won't go pearl diving for me if I ask."

There was a thoughtful pause, and the merman said, "Maybe. If you asked nicely." Then, as an afterthought: "If I don't die by tomorrow."

"As if. You're too much of a tenacious, evil little bastard to die that easily."

"You sound very certain."

"Hell, I _am_. Wanna lay odds on it? Doesn't count if you off yourself to win, though."

"Considering that to win I'd be dead, I'm not sure what I'd be getting out of such a bet."

"The self-satisfaction of being right."

"Ah, of course."

#

In spite of Daiki's efforts and optimism, he got worse before he got better. The fever ran higher later in the night, which Daiki discovered when he went to re-dress the wounds with the freshly boiled gelatinous seaweed that hadn't poisoned him yet, and bind them with tougher strips of brown kelp. The merman was unresponsive throughout the process, his chest barely rising and falling with each faint breath.

"Fuck, no," Daiki muttered crossly, and with only the dim light of the fire from the shore he felt along the merman's neck for his pulse. "You don't get to escape from this shitty island so easily." He got a brief shock when the tips of his fingers encountered a pair of delicate slashes in the skin just below an ear. The accidental touch got the merman to stir, just a little, flinching away from the brush to his gills.

Daiki had the urge to go for them again, but he reined in the impulse. Later, he decided, when the guy was more awake to be annoyed by it.

"You'd better appreciate the amount of sleep I'm losing over you," he said, using the turtle shell to scoop water over the merman's body so it didn't get too dry during low tide. 

The scars of Daiki's cuts wouldn't be the first strokes upon this unique canvas. There were more, none as large as the newest addition to his tail, but they were striking in other ways: a small set of teeth marks making a semicircle in his left hand, and there was a mysterious crisscross of abrasions looping down the tapered end of his tail. Other tiny nicks could be found in flesh and scale, evidence of the ocean's tempestuous environment.

"I knew you were a fighter," Daiki told the merman with well-deserved smugness. He traced the teeth marks with a curious fingertip, wondering what had made them. A shark possibly, or maybe something stranger than that. There was probably a good story behind them. Men liked to brag about their battle scars, and surely merfolk were no different there. "You should be glad I gave you such an impressive trophy, the pretty mermaids will be all over you. Would you tell them I saved you afterwards, or would that be too embarrassing to admit? You're proud, but not that proud, I don't think."

The rock was far from comfortable, Daiki didn't know how the merman put up with it. _Well_ , he amended, _there's probably no choice_. And he was tired enough now to not bother swimming back to the beach, curling on his side with an arm folded under his head.

"Thanks, by the way. For not killing me when I dropped in on you."

He yawned. The shadows stretched long as the light of his fire dwindled, certain to be snuffed out by morning. Oh well. There were worse things, like dying. Like being left alone.

"I still haven't asked your name. I'll have to do that tomorrow."

"It's Tetsuya."

A blink, and the drowsiness lifted from Daiki like a veil. Pale eyes locked onto his and in the quiet of the grotto he heard the name echo.

He grabbed onto it before it faded. "Tetsu," he said, a little uncertain, held by the unwavering patience in that gaze. "I'm Daiki."

"Daiki-kun. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance."

The formality made him laugh softly. "Yeah, same here. How're you feeling?"

"…Not dead."

He laughed a little louder at that. "See? We should have made that bet."

"Bet?"

"What, you don't remember? Damn. I thought you were way more lucid than you were."

Tetsu shifted, scales sliding over rock. He might have been somewhat apologetic when he asked, "Did it involve pearls? I have a vague recollection about pearls."

"Nah. Just know that I am very self-satisfied right now."

"No different from usual, then."

Daiki sighed, long-suffering. "This is why you had me fooled. You're just as much of a little shit when you're feverish and babbling. Oh, speaking of which—" He pressed a hand to Tetsu's forehead, and grinned. "Yeah, fever's broken. No excuses if you forget this conversation, too." His fingers shifted to stroke down the side of Tetsu's face before he knew what he was doing, and he froze for a split second when he did. It was an action Satsuki often did to him when he was ill or recovering from whatever latest stupidity had laid him up, familiar and affectionate and really pretty awkward in this context. His hand changed directions, rising up to the top of Tetsu's head and ruffling his hair. That was marginally better. Daiki's face still felt hot in the darkness.

"I'll be sure to remember," Tetsu said in an even, perfectly unreadable tone.

Daiki withdrew his hand with equal parts haste and reluctance. The fine silk texture of merfolk hair was no exaggeration and worth many times its weight in gold. The calculation was automatic in his mind, and made guilt clench immediately in his gut. He couldn't sell Tetsu out. Not now. Maybe not ever. Merfolk weren't mere beasts, they were more than human enough, and human slaves were a cargo Daiki had never shipped for all the riches in the world.

"Tetsu," he said, and curled his fingers so they wouldn't reach for him again.

"What is it?"

"…Thanks for not dying."

A cool touch brushed over his knuckles, and Tetsu's hand settled over his. "Thank you for saving me."


	2. Chapter 2

There were too many humans on the sea lately. Their ships spread like a disease polluting the reefs and gulfs and further and further out into the ocean deep, trespassing through that which was not their own. They were the largest predator of the waters now, a greedy, bloodthirsty lot in massive floating vessels that thundered with unnatural force.

Oh, they were easy enough to deal with in small numbers. Like many creatures of the land and sea, they were susceptible to spellsong. A handful of merfolk singing in harmony could send a ship away to where it came from, or to its doom. But either way didn't matter because another ship would come in its place, the humans too numerous and too clever. Left with no other choice, entire tribes of merfolk had abandoned their homes to seek other havens, and those were dwindling as the humans closed in on what few places remains untouched. They were an unstoppable current, dragging down anything that was unfortunate enough to get close.

Tetsuya had already learned the hard way the dangers of that current, and it had left its mark on him. Still, in spite of warnings and what should have been his own sense of self-preservation, he continued to swim into waters where ships often passed. The presence of humans guaranteed that most other things were scarce, and below the waves at least he could have privacy.

The truth was he had no talent for spellsong. Not a drop. There were always some folk better at it than others, but everyone could at least sing up a decent enchantment. Tetsuya couldn't even manage that. There was nothing particularly _bad_ about his singing, but it was… missing something. The magic would not take.

There were worse afflictions to suffer, of course, folk that were entirely mute either by nature or a crueler intent than that. Tetsuya counted his blessings. But he did have to be more careful than his peers when wandering past the safety of his tribe's waters, since his only way of protecting himself was to hide from and outmaneuver his opponents as prey did. His unusual tactics and habits made him odder still, and so it was better to find a place where he could be alone to practice his singing.

Most folk were content to let him be, but then there was Kise.

"Leaving again?" Gold scales flashed as Kise darted all around him, easily keeping up with Tetsuya's measured pace. There was no use in Tetsuya trying to outswim him in open water.

"Yes." He adjusted his course so he could lose Kise somewhere in a network of caves along the way if need be.

For once Kise didn't ask where Tetsuya was heading, and his expected pout was absent. Despite appearances he did learn, and rather quickly at that, but often wouldn't act like it. Tetsuya didn't know anyone who enjoyed being silly more than Kise, but the moment he dropped pretenses tended to signal something more troublesome for Tetsuya to deal with, and now was no exception. "I really think I should go with you. After last time…"

"I'll be careful. And the location is different." Tetsuya ignored the reflexive clench in his gut at the thought of _last time_. Face set, he made himself swim a little faster to assure Kise of his health, showing off the full functionality of his tail. The soreness of his muscles had faded weeks ago, and all that remained was some ugly scarring from the ropes. Fortunately for him, vanity was not an issue.

Kise, on the other hand, wore an expression of such pain as if he was bearing the marks upon his own polished scales. "It's too dangerous. And you're, well, more vulnerable than average folk."

As if Tetsuya was not already aware. "I can take care of myself," he said, stonily avoiding Kise's worried look. Facts were facts, there was no changing or ignoring his disadvantage. To have it pointed out by Kise, though, of all folk—that was decidedly unpleasant. 

When it came to spellsong, no one in Tetsuya's tribe was better. Kise had drifted into their territory some months ago, separated from his own tribe during a migration, and he knew not where to find them. Neither was he much bothered by the situation. With all that golden flash on display and an effervescent personality to keep him afloat, he'd find welcome wherever he went. And he could sing like no other; the sea _loved_ Kise's voice and did as he bid it, carrying his songs far and clear. If merfolk weren't immune to enchantment themselves, Tetsuya would be in trouble.

Kise nudged his side, persistent. "Okay, I won't go with you, but at least tell me where you'll be!"

"I would if I knew I could trust you."

That made Kise draw up short, eyes wide with shock and hurt. It was only part façade. "Kurokocchi…"

Tetsuya pressed his lips together. _That might have been a bit too much._ "Kise-kun, I do appreciate your concern. And I consider you a friend. But I truly wish to be alone, and could you honestly stay away if you knew where I was?"

"For a few days… probably…" He'd cling like a barnacle if given the opportunity. Judging by the sheepish duck of his head, he knew it as well.

Part of Tetsuya would be deeply relieved when Kise finally got bored of these waters and wandered off once more. Sometimes during his more irritated moments Tetsuya wondered if Kise's tribe had lost him intentionally. Other times, he knew he would miss the bubble-brained idiot when he was gone.

He did end up having to shake Kise off in the caves, though Tetsuya was chagrined to find the task more difficult than he'd predicted. In a single season Kise had become as familiar with the area as Tetsuya, who'd grown up there all his life. _Unfair, Kise-kun._

Tetsuya did still have one advantage, though, and led Kise past a tunnel where a large and territorial eel burrowed. A moment of distraction was all he needed to slip away unnoticed, leaving Kise to deal with spelling the grumpy eel back into its hole. The short burst of perfectly pitched song followed Tetsuya through the winding caves until he came out near his destination.

He was not in a benevolent mood when he discovered the seemingly shipwrecked human floating upon the surface.

#

"Why don't you sing anymore?"

"Hmm?" Tetsuya feigned ignorance while prying open a clam and scooping out its insides. He popped the meat into his mouth and tossed the empty shell onto a growing pile, feeling marginally guilty about the size of it. Not a big eater under normal circumstances, when he was on the mend was a different story and his appetite turned ravenous. Until he healed further, though, Daiki would have to continue hunting for the both of them.

 _Not much longer_ , Tetsuya thought, stirring the water with his tail and lifting it out in an arch to drip across his back. He repeated the motion a few times to exercise the muscles, and to a lesser extent, keep himself wet. Yesterday he'd simply abandoned the rock to float and roll gently in the water, but getting back up on it had required assistance to avoid stressing his injury, and that had been too embarrassing to repeat. On the positive side, at this rate he'd make a slow, but complete recovery.

"The first couple nights," Daiki said, crouched in front of his fire on the beach, "I heard you singing." He was staring at his fish as if he could will them to cook faster. Tetsuya had tried a bite once and found the hot meat not bad, still juicy enough for his palate, but the fire-flavor infused in it had been… strange.

He took his time to decide on a response while chewing on clams. "You weren't supposed to hear that at all," Tetsuya finally said, avoiding the real issue. He trusted Daiki with his life—he'd had no other choice—but some secrets didn't need to be known.

"You said something like that before, and it doesn't make any more sense now." Impatient, Daiki grabbed a skewer of fish and blew on it. 

"I mean, generally speaking humans can't even hear our language, let alone understand it. Yet you do." 

"I'm special that way." Daiki paused to cock a grin, then started to stuff his face. 

Not that Tetsuya had room to make fun as he worked on another clam with the use of Daiki's knife. There was probably something philosophical about his feeding himself with the weapon that had nearly killed him. He pulled the knife out of the shell to regard the metal blade that had sliced into him not too long ago, an inkling of an idea beginning to bloom in his mind. As he pondered it, he glanced up at the human on the shore, and finally said, "You ingested some of my blood, didn't you?"

"Huh? When?" Daiki looked appalled at the thought.

Tetsuya waggled the knife at him. "When we tried to kill each other. You must have swallowed some water, and I was bleeding, so…"

"Oh. That's kinda… ew?" He was missing the point. Typical.

"That's probably why you can understand me." It was the best theory he had, anyway, and one that bolstered his spirits. There was some magic in him after all, even if it wasn't particularly useful. "I wonder if it's just me, or all merfolk?"

"Weird," was all Daiki had to contribute to the speculation. He was more interested in finishing his dinner. The next fish he bit into made his eyes go wide and his lips curl back. "Hot, hot, hot!" he said in between attempts to chew the steaming meat anyway, to Tetsuya's quiet huff of laughter.

#

He needed stop underestimating the human.

"You never really answered me," Daiki said, conversationally, later that night when he joined Tetsuya on the rock as a steady rainfall came down through the hole. The droplets hitting the water sang throughout the hollow space. "And you don't have to. You can say when I need to shut up and I won't bother you about it anymore."

Tetsuya considered the merits of ignorance again, but discarded the idea in short order. He supposed Daiki deserved honesty, if not the whole truth. "It's fine. There's just no need to sing, so I haven't been." And it would be weird to do so with an audience, but that was just embarrassing to admit.

Daiki nodded in the dark. "I guess once you're better you can swim outta here on your own." He said nothing else about it, making no demands or requests, but there was no disguising the twist in his voice. It was a bitter little note, but also…

_("Thanks for not dying.")_

 __"I owe you," Tetsuya said, and the words came with surprising ease. "I won't just leave you alone." He waited for the weight of such a promise to bear down on him, for the regret to sink in, but nothing changed. Maybe it would later. Or maybe that was the difference between obligation and want.

A tentative touch landed on his arm. Daiki didn't see as well in the dark as Tetsuya did, feeling up along his arm and over his shoulder to bury in his hair. Tetsuya didn't know why he liked to do that, but the light pressure of fingers rubbing over his scalp was a bit pleasant, so he allowed it. _I want to help you_ , he thought, eyes falling half closed to the sound of rain and the warmth of Daiki's body heat. _But I don't know how_.

#

Tetsuya had an abundance of time to contemplate his options over the next few days as he finished healing. Soon he was well enough to glide through the pool of the grotto and lift himself out of the water without aid. The scar pulled a little when he did so, but he had full use of his tail.

"I think tomorrow I'll do the hunting, if you don't mind." He rolled in the water, luxuriating in the feel of it enveloping him. Breathing was never the issue when it came to the domains of land and air, but drying out was a deadly possibility. "There's nothing too dangerous around here—" below the water, that is, "—but I'll stay near the shore just to be safe."

"Fine by me," Daiki said, wiping blood and bits of viscera from his knife after skinning and preparing a small, furry creature he'd caught. The smell of it cooking over the fire was interesting. "I'm sick of the shit I've been catching, so bring back something good."

"Do you have a preference for anything in particular?"

Daiki groaned. "Don't get me started, you have no idea. I'm not a picky eater or anything, but I'd kill a man in cold blood for one of Taiga's home-cooked meals right about now. Or even just a bottle of rum. I haven't been sober this long in ages."

"One might consider that a blessing."

"Oh, come on. You may not have alcohol, but you hit up weird hallucinogenic poisonous things. You don't get to judge."

Tetsuya sank low in the water, submerged to his chin. "I take it that's something else I said while babbling incoherently?"

"You were pretty coherent, actually, but yeah."

"Wonderful. Remind me again why you didn't just put me out of my misery?"

Smirking, Daiki said, "You also said if you died your friend would cry a whole new ocean, upsetting the balance of the life, and dooming us all."

"Did I say that about Kise-kun? That was unkind of me. Also very true." He swam in slow, drifting circles around the rock until Daiki called him over to try some of the meat.

Tetsuya harbored an inherent dislike of getting too near the shore where the tide could leave him high and dry. On the rock at least he'd been surrounded by the safe promise of water. But Daiki had come to him countless times already, so fair was fair. Daiki wouldn't leave Tetsuya beached. That's what he chose to believe that as he swam close, digging fingers into wet sand and feeling the grit of it against his belly as he dragged himself forward and up, becoming graceless and heavy on land while the water lapped at his hips.

Daiki pinched a chunk of browned mammal meat between his fingers, juices running down his hand, and blew on it before offering the piece to Tetsuya. Since he was propping himself up on his elbows, all he could do was open his mouth and wait for it to be placed on his tongue.

_Hot_ , was his first thought, but not so intense that it burned. The flavor was musky and pungent, not particularly bad or good, just different. He liked the various textures of cooked meat, though. This one was slightly tough and gamey.

"Eh," Daiki said after tasting it. "Would be better with seasoning. You'd probably like it with honey, it's sweet."

Tetsuya was developing a fondness for sweet-tasting things. There were types of fish and seaweeds that were vaguely sweet, but it wasn't a strong flavor in the sea so he'd never paid it much mind. The first time Daiki had offered him a sip from a coconut he'd turned up his nose simply because it was freshwater, and he was from a strictly oceanic tribe. Some folk could switch between—Kise, if he could be believed, had swum up through a great river that cut through human land. Tetsuya had always been warned to stay away from those inlets, and not solely because of the human threat. Like the rest of his tribe, he mistrusted water that was weak in saline, but Daiki had a way of rousing his curiosity. He'd been won over and his palate would never be the same again. Since then Tetsuya had sampled everything and anything Daiki brought back to the grotto.

He was probably becoming very spoiled.

It was fortunate, then, that he would soon be providing for himself again. Bad habits like that shouldn't be allowed to take hold. And maybe, while he was out, Tetsuya would find a human ship… although he hadn't yet decided what to do when he found one. If he was any good at spellsong—even a simple charm would do—he could feasibly lure one to the island without endangering himself too much, but as things were, his only option was to use himself as the lure.

Daiki was one thing, a singular exception among humankind as far as Tetsuya knew. He wasn't keen on extending the benefit of his doubt to others.

The other course of action he was considering was to ask Kise for help. That was the safer option, for Tetsuya at any rate. Involving Kise posed an opposite problem, and Daiki would be the one at risk if Kise decided toying with the human was more fun than helping him, no matter how cross it would make Tetsuya. There was little he could do when Kise got carried away on one of his whims.

Tetsuya wriggled down into the cool embrace of the water again and lolled on his back, squinting up at the bright shafts of sunlight penetrating the trees far overhead. There was a lot of wind today, whistling across the top of the grotto, and he could faintly hear the crash of waves against the rocks outside. "Might be a storm coming," he said. "You'll probably want to be on higher ground tonight."

"Pain in the ass," Daiki muttered, shooting a disgusted look at his doomed fire. "What about you?"

"I'll be fine." Then, in answer to the real question, "I won't go anywhere." 

There was a third option. They could just stay like this, here, and no one else had to know or be involved. Tetsuya had once thought he'd surely die in this lonesome cave, but now, more and more often, he found himself thinking there was nowhere else he'd rather be.

It was a bad idea, he already knew, but that didn't stop it from surfacing in his mind now and then. _What if¸_ he wondered when Daiki fed him new and interesting foods, or when Daiki laughed, face dripping after being splashed with Tetsuya's tail, or when he stretched out on the beach for a nap with his skin so tan and tempting and out of reach. _What if nothing had to change?_

#

Daiki liked to touch him. Often it was a hand in his hair, ruffling it messy when dry or slicking it back when wet. During his convalescence Daiki would stroke along his scales while checking on the wound. Once he'd pressed his palm low across Tetsuya's belly with curious intent that didn't go where Tetsuya had thought it would; instead Daiki had muttered under his breath, "I knew it was just a tale." Mystified, Tetsuya decided it was better not to ask.

There was also the time Daiki had tried to prod at his gills and Tetsuya had bitten him. Hard.

("Not bad," he said, licking up the salt and tang of human blood from his lips.

" _Shit_ , that stings," Daiki hissed, washing the wound. "Okay, fine, the gills are off-limits. You better not be venomous or I'll fillet you.")

"Look." Daiki laid his bigger hand next to Tetsuya's on the rock. "We match."

Two sets of teeth marks stamped into dark and pale flesh. Tetsuya curled his tail in pleasure and satisfaction at the sight of his mark on Daiki's skin. It only seemed fair. "Wear it with pride. Most wouldn't have escaped with life or limbs intact." He meant every word, though Daiki only grinned.

"What about you?" he asked, linking their hands and brushing his longer fingers over Tetsuya's scars. "How did you get these?"

"Bad-tempered eel. I was lucky to not lose my hand."

"Damn, must have been a big eel. I thought shark by the size of the teeth."

Tetsuya suppressed a shiver. Most merfolk had no trouble keeping the more aggressive sharks at bay. It was different for him. "If that were the case I'd be lucky to still have my arm." His life, more like.

Daiki squeezed his fingers. "Sounds like a dangerous place down there."

 _You have no idea_. "Your turn," Tetsuya said, rolling on his side to get a better view of Daiki's shoulders and back. He had a myriad of scars of his own, but Tetsuya was more drawn to the painting of a four-legged beast clawing up Daiki's shoulder blade, the design too intentional to be natural but it never washed from his skin. Tetsuya touched his free hand to the fangs of the animal's open snarl. "What's this?"

"That's just a tattoo. Ink."

Tetsuya rubbed at the black lines. "It doesn't smear."

Daiki laughed. "If it did I'm never getting inked by Araki again. It's inside the skin, so it's permanent."

"That sounds… painful." Like the holes some mermaids (and Kise) put in their ears or even stranger parts of their bodies.

"Sorta. Looks cool, though, right? It's a jaguar, one of the fastest and most powerful predators on land. They're spotted, but some come in all black. Those are getting rare, though. They're hunted a lot."

Rare was a good word for Daiki, the exception to so many of Tetsuya's rules, though it was impossible to imagine him being hunted. Or at least, impossible for him to not come out on top should anything try. "It suits you," Tetsuya said, tracing the curved line of the jaguar's tail before smoothing his hand flat over the firm muscle of Daiki's back. He was warm and solid and perpetually damp, courtesy of Tetsuya's habit of splashing water over them both. He couldn't help it. Even knowing that humans faced no danger of drying out, it was instinct to include Daiki as if he was Tetsuya's to look after. 

His fins fluttered against Daiki's feet, prompting the deep ocean blue of Daiki's eyes to glance towards them. "What about those?" he asked, gaze resting on the lines where scale and flesh had been scoured away.

Tetsuya twitched his tail again, but in consternation rather than contentment. He waved aside Daiki's backtracking "never mind" and began telling him the story. "You weren't the first shipwrecked survivor I've come across."

"Did you try to drown the other one, too?"

"I'll bite you again," Tetsuya threatened, and thankfully Daiki shut his troublesome mouth. Huffing at the interruption, Tetsuya continued. "I tried to _save_ him, believe it or not. He appeared helpless so I took him to the nearest shore, but there were other humans there, waiting." The memory gnawed at him—it was less the betrayal, for the whole thing had been an impersonal affair, and more his own carelessness that had gotten him into the mess. "I avoided the full extent of the trap, but was caught by some of their netting. There were enough of them that they'd have dragged me aground soon enough, but by pure luck I managed to escape through a rip current." Never had a rip been more aptly named; he remembered all too well the wrench of his muscles fighting the twists of rope, the tearing of scale and flesh and fin. Bitterly, he added, "I imagine they got rich anyway with the bits of me left behind." 

It had been a long, agonizing, and frankly terrifying swim back home, unable to rely on speed and agility should trouble come his way. Until recently that had been his most helpless moment. His first encounter with Daiki had been worse only because of the bigger blood trail he'd made. If not for the proximity of the grotto, Tetsuya would have likely ended up a meal for a hungry shark. And if not for that first bad experience, his meeting with Daiki might have gone differently, or it might not have happened at all.

 _Ironic, how these things come to be._

The familiar feel of Daiki's hand settled against his head, cradling it, and Tetsuya closed his eyes. More than the expression on Daiki's face he wanted to focus on his voice, its exact timbre and tone, and the heart-deep certainty when he said, "I won't do that to you. I won't let anyone do that to you."

Wry, Tetsuya replied, " _I_ won't let anyone to do that to me. You may have noticed my new policy to drown on sight." But it was still good to hear the words and the naked caring in them straight from Daiki's mouth. Tetsuya shifted his weight, feeling ungainly as always when out of his element, but it was simple enough to press into Daiki's space and feel the whole length of him.

"Funnily enough," Daiki said, arm lifting to drape over Tetsuya's waist, fingers trailing over the wave-wash of scales where they met bare flesh, "I did notice that. I also noticed you left the job unfinished."

Tetsuya kissed Daiki the way he'd been wanting to for days; hungry and full of the fire-heat Daiki had introduced him to. Warmth suffused his skin and the air he breathed was hot in his throat. He slaked his thirst on Daiki's mouth, drinking him, learning his taste. "Aren't you glad that I did?" he murmured between wet presses.

"Very," Daiki purred back, the low rumble of it curling hot and heady and making Tetsuya want more. He licked the swell of Daiki's lower lip, trailing kisses down his jaw, and hesitantly nuzzled the column of his throat where there were no sensitive gills to be careful of. It would be different with a human, but not too different, he imagined. Slowly, measuring Daiki's reactions, Tetsuya's mouth mapped smooth skin. He lingered over the rapid flutter of Daiki's pulse, mesmerized by the striking fragility of the life that thrummed there.

 _Mine_ , Tetsuya thought with a hint of teeth that made Daiki shudder, made his hands clench at Tetsuya's back. Encouraged, he set his teeth more firmly to Daiki's neck. The bite didn't draw blood this time, but it marked the skin sure enough, and Tetsuya sucked a bruise to the surface as evidence of his claim: _I found this human, he belongs to me._ He gave the mark a satisfied swipe of his tongue when he was done.

The slide of Daiki's hand over his scales was curious and wandering, a little unsure, like he didn't quite know where to touch. Tetsuya wasn't as obvious as the line of hardness he felt through Daiki's trousers, pressing against his hip.

He'd show Daiki where to please him later. For now Tetsuya knew what he wanted and how to get it.

He wriggled loose from Daiki's embrace and fell into the water with a plash. The coolness of the sea felt good on his heated skin and he shivered in pleasure, bobbing up to the surface to prop his arms on top of the rock.

Understanding flickered through the confusion on Daiki's face. Then he smiled, and turned a sudden laugh into an awkward cough. "You look—never mind."

Tetsuya leaned forward. "What?"

Daiki scooted towards him, long legs falling open on either side of Tetsuya. With hooded eyes and his voice dipping into a throaty register, Daiki cupped the side of Tetsuya's face, thumbing the corner of his mouth, and said, "You look like you're waiting for me to feed you."

The words teased a hungry little noise from Tetsuya. He licked the pad of Daiki's thumb, drawing it between his teeth to nibble. "That may be so," he conceded, pulling up to drag his hands over the bony caps of Daiki's knees and inward along the lean muscle of his thighs. He was dimly intrigued by the separate shift of them under his touch, but for the moment was more intent on the apex where they joined. Tetsuya had no love for the inconvenience of human clothes and he tugged the fabric open in short order. "Although," he said, voice going breathy, poised above the darkly flushed head of Daiki's cock, "I don't intend to merely wait."

A deep, appreciative groan was the extent of Daiki's reply as Tetsuya's lips wrapped around him. The human scent of him was pungent and sea-soaked, and Tetsuya's desire for him surged. He fisted the base of Daiki's cock and worked down his length, hardness sheathed in slippery-soft skin, warm and pulsing under each lave of Tetsuya's tongue. He committed Daiki's taste to memory, half-familiar with wet and salt and the other half simply different. Tetsuya was becoming very fond of _different_.

He was fond of Daiki's hand in his hair, too, the thoughtless, helpless rake of fingers across his scalp, holding him in place (as if there was a need to, as if Tetsuya wanted to be anywhere else but right here). The sound of his name being uttered in almost angry-sounding growls, that was nice as well. Tetsuya hummed his pleasure around Daiki's cock, glancing up along his body to take in the way his chest heaved, the flush of his face, the darkening lust in his eyes when their gazes met.

Then Daiki squeezed his eyes shut and tipped his head back, and Tetsuya could see the bruise left on his neck. It was certainly not the first nor would it be the last of such marks, but for now it was Tetsuya's alone, just like how Daiki was his alone. For now. For now, Tetsuya gripped Daiki's hip tight, and swallowed down as much of him as he could take.

It was fast and crude and _good_ for all its embarrassing desperation, worth it for the way Daiki's legs shifted under him and around him, the stuttering drag of Daiki's breath filling the cave and the thickness of him filling Tetsuya's mouth.

"Tetsu, Tetsu, m'gonna—!" Daiki's body went taut when he came. The taste that burst over Tetsuya's tongue was bitter, but not bad. Tetsuya swiped at his lips and lapped the residue from his fingers. 

"You do feed me well," he remarked, resting his chin atop Daiki's leg. An ache was beginning to set in his jaw, but he was satisfied with the dull throb of it. Less satisfied with the ache sheathed within a scaled fold along the front of his tail.

Daiki made a slurred noise that eventually resolved into, "…can't believe you can say that with a straight face."

"You started it."

"Guess that means I'd better finish it."

Tetsuya's tail churned the water, almost unbearably riled up. "If you would, please." His breath hitched at the heated pass of Daiki's hands down his back, following the ridge of his spine down to the sleek patterning of his scales.

"Where should I…?"

He grasped and pulled at whatever part of Daiki he could reach. "I'll show you," he promised, the rush of his blood pounding like waves in his ears. "Come here and I'll show you."

#

For a while nothing changed, and Tetsuya was content. He occasionally spotted human ships out at sea, large ones wallowing heavily in the water, weighed down with numbers and weapons and supplies. He'd start to fin towards them, considering, but always veered off when he thought about the possibility of becoming part of the cargo.

 _("I won't let anyone do that to you.")_  
  
But Daiki was only a single person, and humans were terrifying in a mob. One on one, as long as Tetsuya was in the water he could put up a fight, besting the bigger and stronger Daiki in some of their wet tussles. As soon as Tetsuya was dragged onto land, though, it would be over for him. Daiki never did when they were playing, no matter how big of a sulk he put up whenever he lost.

According to the human stories, merfolk kept troves of untold treasures in their underwater caverns. Tetsuya had scoffed when Daiki first told him, but maybe there was some truth to the ridiculous tale—only it wasn't gold or silver or pearls that he hoarded. It was the night sky in Daiki's eyes and the lazy morning drawl of his voice, the resonance of his laughter and the pulse of his big, beating heart contained here in their private little world.

Of course it couldn't last.

"Oh good, you're back," Daiki said when Tetsuya swam into view with their breakfast, a dazed cobia floating listless in a net, but the fish was soon forgotten when Tetsuya registered the high-trailing note of panic in Daiki's voice. "So I'm having a fun morning."

Abandoning the net completely, Tetsuya splashed up onto the beach where Daiki lay on his back, unmoving. He blinked at Tetsuya's approach, but his eyes were unfocused and drooping. No obvious injuries, which was more worrisome than if he'd been bleeding from an open wound, and Tetsuya felt something in him lurch. "Tell me quickly," he said, trying to calm the agitated thrashing of his tail.

Daiki licked his lips. He swallowed once and then twice before getting another word out, and that word was simply, "Snake."

"Where did it bite you? How long ago?"

"An hour or two ago… maybe? Down on my leg. Didn't even hurt at first."

Tetsuya hoped Daiki couldn't make out the blood draining from his face. He located the tiny pinpricks of the bite a few inches up on Daiki's calf. There were no other visible effects on the skin, and no teeth broken off in the wound, but a couple hours was a long time for the venom to set in. "Do you remember what it looked like?"

Daiki managed a dry bark of laughter. "Hell, the carcass is probably still floating around somewhere after I killed the little fucker."

Tetsuya nearly collapsed in relief. "You may live through this yet," he said, and began squirming back into the water. "Wait here."

"Tetsu, I can barely move, I'm not going _anywhere_."

"But your mouth still works, so you'll be fine." He dove below the surface before Daiki could articulate a reply, scanning about the pool for the culprit and found the limp body of a banded sea krait drifting along the sandy bottom. Snatching it away from a scavenging crab, he brought it back to shore before leaving the grotto to collect the rest of what he needed. 

Luckily everything was easy to find, and all merfolk were adept at treating the myriad of toxins present throughout the reefs. Tetsuya was perhaps a bit better than most out of necessity. He could only hope what worked for his kind also worked for humans.

After returning to the grotto, next was the arduous process of dragging himself all the way out of the water to reach Daiki's ill-fated turtle shell and knife. "You know," Tetsuya said, breathing hard from exertion and gritting his teeth at the feel of sand drying all over his body. "This happened because of the turtle. Sea snakes are normally very docile."

"Superstitious bullcrap," Daiki muttered.

Tetsuya shot him a glare that went unnoticed. "They hardly ever bite folk, and even then it's incredibly rare for them to envenomate anyone to this degree. You must have had it coming _somehow_."

"M'not dead yet. Must be a defective turtle curse."

"Idiot. You'll survive because of me." Because Daiki had saved him. The sea always paid back its debts, taking and giving in equal measure. Humans never seemed to understand that and were always just taking. "Now don't argue anymore, save your energy."

Daiki fell silent, though it was likely more due to pain and paralysis than concession to Tetsuya's point.

Puffing out a sigh, he held the snake over the bowl of the shell and went about slicing off its head and skin. What he needed were the venom glands and blood, saving the meat for food and tossing the guts. He kept an eye on Daiki while he worked, and paused once to turn him on his side so he wouldn't choke on his vomit.

"You're going to be all right," Tetsuya said softly. He sang the words, knowing the magic wouldn't imbue them, and in a burst of fierce defiance he went into the well-practiced strains of a healsong. His voice filled the cavern, bouncing off walls and water in a blend of tones, but they were empty echoes of no substance. He continued anyway, letting the routine singing sharpen his focus as he worked. If he concentrated on pitch and power his thoughts didn't stray towards the possibility of failure.

His blood was the last ingredient he added to the remedy. Just because he couldn't string a spellsong together didn't mean the magic wasn't _there_ —it had taken effect on Daiki before, maybe it would again.

"You aren't going to like this, but drink it anyway," he said, tipping the concoction to trickle over Daiki's mouth. Getting him to swallow was difficult, not because he fought it but because the muscles in his throat were refusing to cooperate. Some of it went down, though. It would have to be enough.

Tetsuya began to sing again, and if nothing else, the soothing melody helped calm his mind as he watched over Daiki's struggle to survive.

#

Insistent jostling woke Tetsuya up hours later. He opened his eyes to the fading golden haze of sundown, immediately grimacing at the bed of dry sand scrunching under his body. "Ugh," he said, flopping clumsily onto his stomach so he could push up onto his elbows. His arms shook with the effort, weak from dehydration.

Daiki prodding at him didn't help. "What the hell were you thinking," he was saying, "falling asleep up here? Get back in the water, you dumbass." He sounded tired, and more than a little peevish.

Tetsuya thought that was really rude considering he'd just saved the man's life. He batted Daiki's hand away and shifted to get a good look at him. His complexion was a little better, and his eyes were alert. He'd moved around some but still looked stiff and pained. "How do you feel?"

Daiki tried to shrug, but winced. "Everything hurts, but I guess that's better than not feeling anything. Thought I was seriously gonna die for a while." His voice had a raspy edge to it. Tetsuya's throat was on the sore side as well. He glanced at Daiki's weakened form, then further up the beach under a palm tree where several halved coconut shells lay, filled with rainwater. Daiki noticed him looking and narrowed his eyes. "Don't even think about it. I'll get my own damn water. You get back in the pool before you—turn to dust or whatever merfolk do. I'll get up and toss you in if you don't. Seriously."

"You are a wretched patient." But Tetsuya could all too easily picture Daiki making good on the threat, no matter his condition, so he relented and started to squirm downward. The lapping of cool water along his lower half was a balm to his parched scales, and he sank gratefully in the shallows where he was covered but still resting on top of the shoreline's slope.

Daiki relaxed a little, but he still grumbled with a childish need to have the last word, "Like you were any better. At least I didn't insist you kill me."

"Fair point."

Gradually, the light in the grotto dimmed. Tetsuya was aware of the emptiness of his stomach, but hunger wasn't such a pressing issue he needed to do anything about it right then. Perhaps in a few more hours. There were some dried fish available on a rack so Daiki wouldn't have to cook for himself until he was well enough to be up and about. He was reckless, though, and would probably push his limits as soon as morning came. Tetsuya would have to make sure he was there to scold him.

The moon came out, painting the water's surface silver, and the tide surged up to let Tetsuya drift closer to Daiki. They could meet where the land and sea did, but never stay there. _I knew it couldn't last_. _I must send him back._ Tetsuya sighed audibly, part of it in irritation at himself for how much the thought made him ache. He'd indulged far too much.

"Tetsu…?"

"Go to sleep. You need to rest."

"Hell, I've rested all day already."

 _I should splash him_ , Tetsuya thought, then quickly rejected the idea. _No, that would only encourage him_. Testily, he said, "I did not go through all that effort for you to ruin it by being careless. Don't. You. Move."

"I'm bored," Daiki whined.

 _I take it back, I don't want him anymore._ Tetsuya submerged to the top of his head and only caught part of what Daiki said next. He considered ignoring him, but in the end resurfaced reluctantly. "What was that?"

"What were you singing earlier?"

"It was nothing."

"…Right, then."

"I mean—" Tetsuya shut his mouth. Then, hesitantly, opened it again. "…It was a spellsong. For healing. But it didn't work."

"…Okay. But I still don't get it."

"It never works. I can't—I wasn't—" This was going even more poorly than he'd imagined. Tetsuya took a deep, steadying breath, and started from the beginning. "…Did you ever wonder why I tried to drown you with my own hands instead of spelling you from a safe distance?"

"Honestly? Never thought about it."

Of course, this was Daiki. Somehow Tetsuya found that reassuring and continued. "Well, it's because I can't. I can sing the notes, but they won't do anything. My spellsongs have absolutely effect whatsoever. It's… an unusual quirk." That was putting it lightly. At worst, he was just defective.

"Huh," Daiki said in the bored, offhand tone he used when most of whatever Tetsuya was saying went in one ear and out the other. "That's weird." 

For a moment Tetsuya was caught perfectly between incredulous rage and world-weary resignation.

And then Daiki, being Daiki, knocked him off-balance altogether. "You're pretty impressive, you know?"

"…I'm sorry, what?"

"Well, you know. You don't need magic or whatever to kill me or save my life."

"But," Tetsuya grasped for words, head spinning as he tried to align with the angle of Daiki's logic, "that's out of necessity. I had to come up with other, more risky ways to survive. My methods are crude and often desperate, and no matter what, I can never work a spell. Not even—" _to save you_. If that reason hadn't made it work, Tetsuya was sure nothing else would. While he was distracted by that thought, he didn't notice the telltale signs of movement until it was too late. "…What are you doing? Don't get up, you need to recover."

But it was useless, Daiki had already sat up with a groan and was unsteadily nearing the water's edge. He splashed into the shallow dip of the shore. "C'mere, you." One hand landed heavy atop Tetsuya's head and the other gripped his arm, pulling him roughly until his face was mashed up against Daiki's chest. Then Daiki's hands gentled, petting through Tetsuya's hair. "Listen," Daiki said, the closeness of his voice deeply resonant in the dark. "So you can't do any fancy magic—so what? You've managed pretty damn well without it. The fact that you're here like this is proof that you've worked hard in life. And I respect that about you."

The beat of Daiki's heart was a steady, reliable sound, thumping away under Tetsuya's ear. His face was warm where it pressed against Daiki's skin, and as with the inevitable pull of the tide, his arms crept around Daiki in a slow build of acceptance. 

This, Tetsuya decided, would be the last time. He inhaled Daiki's scent, memorizing its nuance. He committed to memory the shape of Daiki's hands, the way his fingers would sift through damp hair, the weight of his palm over Tetsuya's neck, and the slight catch of calluses against skin. 

"Daiki-kun," he said, prompting, just to hear once more the low, indolent tones of his voice.

"What is it, Tetsu?"

There were countless things he could have said and wanted to say. Embarrassing things, meaningful things, pointless things. Angry and unfair things. _If only I hadn't met you…_ But what he most wanted to say was, _thank you, thank you, thank you._

Tetsuya said none of these. Instead, he asked, "Do you mind if I sing?"

He felt Daiki's breath whisper over his forehead. "Stupid, you don't need to ask." Then there was a brush of lips at his hairline, not quite a kiss, and a self-conscious mumble of, "I like listening to you."

Tetsuya didn't allow himself to waver. He pitched his voice into a song with no particular intent, no spell on his mind, just the simple pleasure of singing for the only audience he ever cared to entertain. His contentment, his sorrow, his gratitude—if they bled into his song, so be it. This was a song for just one person, anyway.

Tomorrow he would find a ship to take Daiki home where he belonged, to a human town where his human friends and family were waiting for him. Where he still had a whole life left to live, separate from Tetsuya. Tomorrow they would both say farewell to this island and go their own ways. And perhaps, many tomorrows after, on some other shore belonging to some other sea, perhaps somehow they might just meet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to post this while it was still AoKuro Week, so forgive the rough edges. It's not the most polished fic overall, just good AoKuro fun.


	3. Chapter 3

Someone once told Daiki he must be part cat, he had so many lives. He couldn't remember if that had been after the fire at the mill or after the bar fight where a broken bottle had torn open his arm (better than his face at least where the bastard had been aiming)—no, now that he thought about it, it'd definitely been after the bar. Hard to forget the agony of having glass shards picked out of a wound. The doctor had made the comment while sewing him up. Daiki told Satsuki about it later, without the details of course, and he wouldn't have said anything at all if she hadn't seen the new scar peeking out from under the rolled-up sleeve of his shirt. She'd found the feline likeness much less amusing than he had.

"Cats have nine lives," she'd said in the crisp, shrewd tone she'd picked up since starting to work at her adoptive parents' general store. Her beauty drew in the customers, but her business acumen made the money. "How many do you think you've used up already, Dai-chan?"

He must be getting close to the limit now, or maybe the snakebite had been the last, and all that was left was to die a slow, dull death out here where no one would find him.

_No one but Tetsu_ , Daiki thought, staring moodily into the fire. The reminder of the merman only made him frown harder at the flames.

He'd woken up alone, but that much was normal. Tetsu often went out early to hunt, or do whatever merfolk did. Sometimes he was out all day, no doubt busy with the rest of his life, which certainly didn't revolve around a single, sorry castaway of a human

"I don't like it when Dai-chan is bored," Satsuki had once said to Taiga. "You never know what will happen."

"Isn't it worse when he's getting in trouble, though?"

"But then I'm too busy with the damage control to _worry_. It's the _worrying_ that's the worst part."

"Oi," Daiki had growled, "I'm right here."

"We know," they'd both chorused, giving him identical pointed looks. Later that day the flour mill exploded, and the way they'd looked at him then was completely unwarranted when the explosion hadn't even been his fault.

"Damnit," Daiki muttered, rubbing a hand over his face as if that would help dispel the memories. They scavenged constantly at the edges of his thoughts these days, catching him unaware whenever he was alone. If it wasn't for Tetsu—

Well. If it wasn't for Tetsu he'd be dead of snakebite and madness wouldn't be an issue.

"That guy…" Rather than dwell on the past, it was easier to think about Tetsu and the stern words Daiki had in store for him when he returned. After Daiki had woken up that morning, Tetsu may have been gone, but he'd seen fit to start a new fire. Who'd ever heard of merfolk starting fires? Normally Tetsu stayed far away from the flames—not so much due to the heat he said, but because of the uncomfortable dryness that came with it. But apparently he'd come all the way up onto the beach— _again_ —just to restart the fire.

"I'm not a fuckin' invalid," Daiki groused to himself, falling back to lie flat on the sand. He still ached, but he could move—he'd made damn sure of that as soon as he'd fully woken up, checking to see that nothing remained paralyzed or impaired. Aside from the soreness and an irritating weakness that was _sure_ to pass, he was in fine condition. "Don't know what that guy is thinking…"

It wasn't as if he needed the fire to keep warm in this climate. He was already dry. There was nothing to cook. He wasn't going to accidentally set the trees on fire—

_"That is definitely something Dai-chan would do."_

_"Definitely."_

__"Hell," Daiki said, rolling over on his side. "Shut the fuck up, you two aren't even here, you don't get to judge."

_"You don't have to be so rude about it!"_

_"It's Daiki, he was born rude."_

__"You think you're so funny, Taiga—shit, I'm talking to myself. Is it the venom? Shit." _Tetsu, where are you?_ Maybe he really was going mad. Maybe Tetsu had given up on him and wasn't coming back. _He wouldn't. He wouldn't do that._

_"Dai-chan."_

__"No."

_"Daiki, you bastard."_

"Shut up."

"Hello?"

"SHUT UP, YOU'RE NOT REAL." 

"Oh? Last I checked I was quite real." The voice, Daiki realized, was blessedly unfamiliar. He pulled his hands away from where they'd been covering his ears and looked around in bewilderment. The voice came again, from above. "Up here."

There was a person kneeling at the edge of the hole, and now Daiki could hear the murmur of others with him. 

"He's cracked," someone said.

"Who knows how long he's been stranded here?"

"Quiet down," the man in the lead said. Then, turning back to Daiki: "Hello there. I assure you we're not figments of your imagination."

Daiki staggered up to his feet. "Even if you are, I'll take my chances."

He couldn't clearly make out the man's expression, but the voice maintained its even-keeled friendliness. "We’re traders on our way to Karah. We could take you along if you'd like, I imagine it's been a while since you last saw civilization. What do you say?"

_Home_ , Daiki thought with a crash of relief, and the word kept pounding away in his chest. _Home, home, home._

"I say, get me the hell off this island."

#

"Is something wrong?"

The rowboat rocked with each push of a wave, oars splashing steadily to either side and taking them further and further away from shore. This was the first time Daiki had seen it from a distance. If he'd been awake for his arrival the sight probably would have overjoyed him. Now he was happy to see it shrink.

"Nah," he said, turning his back to the island at last. "It's nothing." The urge to look again remained like an itch on the nape of his neck, but it was no use, he told himself, and kept his eyes forward. No use scanning the water for a hint of shimmering scale. Tetsu might not even be nearby, he wouldn't even know— _for god's sake, stop it._ Daiki closed his eyes. Parting had been inevitable, one way or another. And this way, out of all the possible outcomes, was for the best.

"Must be strange to finally be leaving," said the man sitting opposite of Daiki. He'd introduced himself as Seto, and he had an easygoing manner that softened but did not fully mask the sharpness of his features. He might have been an honest trader as he claimed, or he might not. Daiki no longer cared either way, giving Seto a disinterested stare.

"Guess so."

Seto didn't press the conversation, but he did send a glance over his shoulder. Daiki followed his line of sight to the three-mast cargo ship waiting for them. It flew the empire's spectrum of colors, sure enough. The vessel was built for speed and considerably well-armed, though that wasn't unusual for an unescorted merchant ship. As they neared, Daiki made out the figurehead of a woman crowned with leaves, holding a cup in an outstretched hand.

Instinct roused, scenting the air warily. "What did you say her name was?"

Seto's smile was benign. "The _Belladonna_. Lovely, isn't she?"

A niggling memory chewed on the fringe of Daiki's consciousness. He'd heard that name before, and the associations did not sit well. "Deadly, too, I'd bet."

"Certainly. Would you expect anything less when the sea is so rife with trouble these days? She's survived and triumphed over a pirate attack or two."

Pirates, Daiki decided shortly after boarding, would have been preferable.

"Well, well," said Hanamiya Makoto, grinning from ear to ear as he descended the stair to the main deck. "I see rumors of your demise have been exaggerated."

Daiki stopped himself from swimming back to the island. Instead he bared his teeth in a mockery of a smile. "They always are. What about you, I can hardly believe you'd give up the conquest of privateering for something as mundane as trade."

Hanamiya waved a hand dismissively. "It was never about conquest, though I won't deny I had fun. As for the perks of the mercantile business, that depends on the value of the goods." Dark eyes narrowed and his lips curved razor thin. "I leave the fire and so-called glory of battle to types like you. I'm more interested in seeing a different kind of blood."

Dealing with Hanamiya was always like this; it left Daiki with the feeling he'd touched something unclean, and that was a feat when his hands were plenty dirty to begin with. He broke eye contact with a snort. "Yeah, good for you, just spare me the creepy details, all right? I'm only hitching a ride to Karah and that's it."

"I suppose I'm not surprised that isolation in the wilderness did little to improve your manners."

" _Please_ ," Daiki sneered. "And _thank you_."

"Charming," Hanamiya said dryly. "I'll remind you that I'm not obligated to suffer you onboard my ship. I could leave you marooned here or at the bottom of the sea with lead tied to your ankles, but…" An unnerving gleam came to light in his abyssal gaze. "I hear your girl is offering a reward for you. Alive, of course."

"Satsuki isn't my—fuck it, whatever." _A reward_ , he thought. _Shit. Why'd she do something stupid like that?_ No, he knew why. It was just her way. If she'd been the one to vanish, Daiki had his own methods. Although they weren't children anymore, Satsuki didn't have to keep cleaning up after his messes. "If it's money you're interested in, I'll pay you when we get to Karah." 

Hanamiya smiled as if he'd gotten exactly what he wanted. "Not money per se, but I do like the idea of you owing me. Shall we discuss further in private?"

"What a headache," Daiki grumbled. "Fine, let's get it over with." Negotiating price had never been his favorite part of the job. Most of the time his reputation did the heavy lifting, and as long as he wasn't being made a fool of he didn't care about being business savvy, but Hanamiya was the type to make him work for a bargain. He reminded Daiki of someone else he knew. There were rumors that before Hanamiya swore fealty to the empire he'd once sailed under a black flag with Imayoshi, and Daiki couldn't imagine a more hellish combination. 

Bold as brass, he didn't wait for a proper invitation before letting himself into the captain's cabin. If he was going to be forced to play this game, this was how he always played it. Daiki was certain enough of his own value that Hanamiya _probably_ wouldn't toss him overboard like he'd threatened.

The quarters were clean and just sumptuous enough to make a statement, with an out-of-place earthy scent hanging about the air. Underlying hints of sickly sweet could only mean poison, and considering the captain's toxic personality Daiki should have put two and two together as soon as he heard the ship's name. 

"I'm sure this goes without saying," Hanamiya began with a sour glare, opening a cabinet door to select a bottle of port, "but it would be wise to not touch anything in here."

Daiki pulled a chair out and sat astride it, offering up a reckless grin. "Me, wise?"

Glass clinked as two cups were set on a table and filled with red wine. "If not wisdom, you at least posses an animal instinct for self-preservation. Just don't accidentally kill yourself before I get any use out of you because that would annoy me."

"Sure, whatever." Daiki lost all interest in baiting Hanamiya when alcohol was placed in front of him. He grabbed for the glass, unashamed of his eagerness. It had been too long. The port was sweeter and finer than his usual fare, and once he drained his glass he took the liberty of pouring another.

"I don't mind if you finish the bottle," Hanamiya said, lazily swirling his own drink. "I'll merely add it to what you owe me."

"And what _do_ I owe you?"

"I'll let you know the total at the end of the voyage. Fair?"

"Closemouthed bastard. Will it be money or favors?" It was all the same to him, although Daiki was somewhat hampered by the loss of his ship and crew. He was still him, though. If nothing else, swagger could get a man surprisingly far in life, especially if he had the skill to back it up.

Hanamiya sipped at his wine. "Hmm. I personally believe the latter is a more valuable currency, and this is you after all. Your services are more useful to me than whatever pittance you have stashed under a mattress somewhere."

Daiki took a short moment to imagine Hanamiya's disgruntled surprise if he knew he had a personal bank account because Satsuki had insisted. There wasn't much in it, but still. And really, under a mattress? He hadn't done that even as a child, not when he'd slept in a room with too many nosy orphans who were plenty willing to throw one another under the carriage.

"How about this?" Glass in hand, Hanamiya made his way to a desk. There were maps laid out and papers weighed down upon it. "You help me out with a little venture right now, and I'll deduct, oh, 60 percent from your final debt."

Daiki's eyebrows rose. "That sounds… generous."

"Isn't it?" He pulled open a drawer and withdrew a carved box made of plain, dark wood, built for function rather than decoration. "Tell me about your stay on that island. Did anything eventful happen?"

Daiki pushed his empty glass away. He had a feeling now was not a good time to get as drunk as he wanted—there might never be a good time for that on this particular ship. "I almost died a handful of times, but that's kinda normal. And there was the whole part where my ship sank and my crewmates died. That was an event."

"How absolutely fascinating," Hanamiya droned with a roll of his eyes. A key appeared in his hand, and he made a show of it to emphasize how Daiki never noticed exactly where it had come from.

What a pain in the ass. "Are you waiting for me to clap or something? Get to the point already."

"So impatient," Hanamiya said, and turned the key in the lock with a click before offering Daiki the box. "Here."

Daiki couldn't help but point out, "You said not to touch yet you keep handing me things." He took the box before Hanamiya could spitefully rescind it. The wood was slightly worn, but sturdy and dense, weighing more than the object that clunked inside. Daiki opened the lid, and fitted diagonally across the velvet interior was a conch shell not much bigger than his hand. "…Okay," he said when nothing else revealed itself.

Hanamiya put a finger to his lips, picking up the cream-colored shell and holding it to Daiki's ear.

There was the usual faint rushing of the sea, and Daiki almost thought he was being made fun of when something else echoed through the spiraling walls of the shell. An unfamiliar voice singing a familiar song.

His heart stuttered in his chest and something gave him away, maybe a widening of eyes or an intake of breath, because when he met Hanamiya's gaze the blood in Daiki's veins turned to ice. Hanamiya wore vicious satisfaction on his face as he pulled away, the merfolk song dissipating as the shell was returned to the box, locked and tucked away once more. 

"Very few people have ever heard that song," Hanamiya said, folding to sit behind the desk with his fingers laced and his head bowed. The curve of his grin was a perpetual upturned blade pointed at Daiki. "Most won't hear a thing from that shell. Merfolk magic is quite choosy, and it cost a pretty penny indeed to get my hands on that item. I have it on good authority that it's effective as bait." He raised his eyes. "Care to weigh in?"

Daiki could spin a good bluff when there was a need (there was no getting ahead in this business without that kind of talent) but Hanamiya had a cruel hook in him now, and wasn't going to buy any lie he tried to sell. Since Daiki had decided weeks ago not to sell the truth, either, all he could do was look Hanamiya in the eye and say, "I've got nothing to tell you."

Hanamiya only sighed. "Well, it was worth a shot. You always were weak-stomached about some things. What a pity."

Daiki's gut churned, but not with sickness. He stood and made to kick the chair, his blood up and ready for a fight, but his own speed betrayed him with a wave of dizziness. The room spun around Hanamiya's laughing face, twisted ugly and derisive.

"I warned you," he gloated, and was unperturbed as Daiki slammed his hands on the desk but failed to gain any equilibrium from it. He began to slide. Hanamiya's visage tilted sideways, and the last thing Daiki heard (with the taste of too-sweet wine coating the inside of his mouth) was, "I told you not to touch anything."

#

Daiki came to in the dank, groaning darkness of the hold, and thanks to the lack of light brained himself on the shallow ceiling above his head when he sat up. The burst of pain had him hissing and curling in on himself, holding his aching head in his hands where a clank and clatter of metal cut through the ringing of his ears. A sense of foreboding welled within him. Pulling his arms away, he confirmed the weight of manacles around his wrists with a line of chain dangling between them. Another chain trailed away and off the shelf he was on, anchored to something that didn't budge when Daiki pulled. He swore halfheartedly because of course the _Belladonna_ was built as a slaver, though currently only transporting a shipment of one.

 _Two, if Hanamiya gets his way_. 

Like hell Daiki was going to let that happen. The pain in his head faded to a background ache as urgency rushed him into action. There was no telling how long he'd been out, but never mind that. Working blind, Daiki crawled forward and found the floor, coming to stand hunched over in the cramped space. The length of chain slithered after him, and wouldn't let him move more than a few steps. He felt along the links to find it attached to a bolt, somewhat rusted but otherwise firmly embedded in the ceiling where it wouldn't be coming loose anytime soon.

His feet where free, though. An oversight on Hanamiya's part, or whoever had locked him up. Thank god for small favors. Daiki rotated his wrists in the manacles and limbered up the joints in his hands. Then, without giving himself time to ponder it, he popped one thumb out of its socket.

" _Fucking son of a—_ " he snarled under his breath, and wriggling his hand free was an agony he endured. He reset the thumb with a grunt, then repeated the unpleasant process with the other hand.

He'd broken into a cold sweat by the time he was finished, but he was free. The next thing Daiki did was check his boot, but the weight of it already told him what he confirmed when he found his knife gone. Crew incompetence only went so far. He'd simply have to make do without a weapon.

There were at least half a dozen things needing to be done to get out of this mess with his life intact, but Daiki couldn't spare a thought for any of them right now. His foremost concern was making sure Hanamiya didn't get his hands on Tetsu. Daiki could worry about his own skin afterwards. 

It was hard to tell from within the belly of the ship, but the gentle rocking under his feet hinted that they might still be anchored or were at least moving slowly. Perhaps not much time had passed. A thin outline of light marked the exit hatch, which Daiki crowded under with his ear to the boards, listening for footsteps. When no tread of feet interrupted his waiting silence, he tested the hatch.

_Better not be locked_. He almost laughed at the thought, but stifled the sound when luck took his side and the hatch lifted without resistance.

Moving around without getting caught was difficult, but not impossible. Fortunately the _Belladonna_ was a big enough ship to require a sizable crew, all hard at work, so when Daiki couldn't avoid being seen he kept his head down and looked busy to pass through unnoticed. He made sure to stay out of Seto's line of sight completely. Of Hanamiya there was no trace, not even inside the cabin Daiki finally reentered.

He wrinkled his nose at the familiar mingle of poison in the air and noted that the wine had been cleared away. Pity he couldn't give Hanamiya a taste of his own medicine, although knowing that man he'd either built an immunity or had been born with one, viper that he was. Sea kraits had nothing on him.

Daiki didn't delay any further, making for the desk and pulling open all its drawers until he found the box in the bottom right. Locked, of course. He scattered papers in search of something that could pick it open. A quill was too flimsy, but a letter opener or thin enough dagger might do. With something heavy he could bludgeon it apart—or, Daiki realized, there was the simplest solution. 

He hefted the box in his hand. The conch shell clunked inside. Getting a good grip, he hurled it with all his might at the floor. Wood hitting wood made a dull thump, but it was accompanied by a plate-like crack splitting from the inside. Daiki picked up the box again to check, and this time pieces rattled within.

His frame slumped in relief. That was it, then. Couldn't have a trap without any bait, and Tetsu was smart enough to avoid humans otherwise. He should be staying far, far away from the ship, and now there wouldn't be any reason for him to venture near.

The thought of leaving without saying goodbye was a little easier this way, even if it was only for his own self-satisfaction. 

Daiki left the box out in the open; no use trying to play innocent so why expend the effort? He sat on the edge of the desk and crossed his arms, now presented with the task of saving his own skin—a familiar situation, almost like he was home already. 

He could take Hanamiya in a fight. The guy was no pushover and bound to play dirty, but Daiki was stronger, faster, and more than willing to go for the low blow himself. The question was whether the crew would listen if he threatened or killed their captain. Hanamiya didn't seem like the type to inspire loyalty, but he wasn't considered a bad leader in spite of his faults.

Knocking interrupted Daiki's thoughts in a burst of sharp-knuckled raps. He lifted his head as the door swung open, then narrowed his eyes when the person who entered wasn't the quartermaster or any other crew member, but Hanamiya himself. A look of surprise crossed the captain's face, but it didn't wipe the smirk curling his mouth.

"How polite of you not to ambush me the moment I stepped inside."

An ominous feeling yawned deep and Daiki toed the edge of the drop. "Says the man who knocked on his own door."

"I thought it only fair to warn you."

" _Fair_. Right."

"Oh, please. Did you really think I wouldn't know everything you did on my ship?" He glanced through the cabin. "Though I'll admit I expected you to make more of a mess. You have my thanks for exercising restraint." Hanamiya's grin said he knew exactly how much restraint was being exercised that very moment.

But only a very brief moment. _Fuck it_. Daiki took the bait with a furious determination to tear it from the line. He pushed off from the desk, and the force of his movement caused the heavy slab of furniture to scrape backward. Hanamiya barely had time to twitch before Daiki's fist connected with his cheek. He'd have gone sprawling, but quick as a flash Daiki had him in a chokehold, arm squeezing around the vulnerability of his throat. Air wheezed past Hanamiya's lips, along with the eking of a weak chuckle.

The door behind him banged open. Daiki kept one arm around Hanamiya's neck and backfisted the first guy to come within range. Hands grabbed at his shoulder. He swung with his elbow, missed the attacker, but shook him free and turned to put Hanamiya in front like a shield. The cabin was filling with crew.

Sharp pain stabbed into Daiki's thigh. He loosened his hold in favor of grabbing Hanamiya's arm before the blade could carve upward, and for a split second stared in indignant shock at his own knife being wielded against him. Hanamiya laughed again, hoarse and grating, and twisted free as more crewmembers rushed in.

It took several men to wear him down. Most he sent reeling with bloodied faces and broken bones, but their numbers piled up while Daiki's exhaustion took its toll. In the end he was down on his knees with his leg bleeding sluggishly and his eye swelling shut, arms wrenched behind his back and hair gripped by a hand that forced his head up. 

He got a good view of Hanamiya, pale skin bruised along his neck and cheek, retrieving the box at his leisure to unlock and open. The contents were dumped, and more pieces of shell shattered over the floorboards. They were crunched underfoot as Hanamiya turned slowly to Daiki, withdrew the real conch that gleamed mockingly in his hand, and replaced it in the box.

"You made a good effort," Hanamiya said, voice raw and dripping malice. The white of his grin was stained red. "And you may be stronger and faster, but you are a thousand years too early if you think you can outsmart me. Did you enjoy the fleeting sense of accomplishment I allowed you to have? And people say I'm not nice."

"If this is you being nice, I'd hate to see you angry." Daiki's grimace contorted with a snort of laughter. "Then again, I'm told I have a knack for making people angry. So I guess we'll see."

Hanamiya clicked his tongue pityingly. "I'm afraid you won't be seeing much of anything for the voyage. You know how it is, transporting beasts. They must be kept calm or they might stir up trouble. But, because I am a very generous soul, I will let you see something good before we set sail." He nodded to the man behind Daiki. "Bring him."

Daiki was hauled to his feet. He considered making himself dead weight just to be a nuisance, but on the other hand, the less ire he drew, the better. He had a feeling he'd need to preserve what little strength he had remaining.

As soon as he was dragged out onto the deck, though, his blood drained from his face along with his remaining strength until only a ghost of it kept him upright.

Hanamiya had his prize strung upside down and hanging from the mainmast's yard like a fisherman showing off his catch. The limp weight of Tetsu's body swayed with the motion of the ship, rope lashed around the base of his tail where it dug into old scars. His wrists were bound, arms dangling, and another twist of rope stretched across his mouth. A smear of blood matted his hair from a blow to the head. He was dazed but conscious, and caught Daiki's stunned gaze for a single, resigned moment before slowly closing his eyes.

Hanamiya spoke, but Daiki couldn't hear the words over the deafening silence of guilt pressing in on him. The sins of humankind had the weight of rocks bearing down on a condemned man. He'd suffocate under them, whether the punishment was rightfully deserved or not.

One of the crewmembers moved on Hanamiya's command, grabbing a fistful of dripping hair and bending Tetsu's head back to fully bare the white column of his throat and the red slashes of his gills. A naked blade flashed in the man's free hand.

Air rushed into Daiki's lungs and Hanamiya's voice filtered through the noise of his increasingly frantic pulse. "Do you know why merfolk are nearly impossible to keep in captivity? It's because they rarely survive the muting. A pity, they're worth so much more alive. I suppose we'll just have to hope this one holds out until a buyer takes him off my hands."

" _Wait!_ " Daiki roared, struggling anew with a ferocity that would have torn him free from his captor had there not been someone else to help hold him down. He strained against them, chest heaving. "Wait just a minute you goddamn—"

Hanamiya signaled to the man holding Tetsu.

Daiki snarled the words. " _He can't magic anyone!_ "

The blade halted mid-motion. Someone scoffed, "And we're supposed to take your word for it, is that it?"

"No," Hanamiya said, measured and wondering, as he circled around Tetsu. His smile turned ghastly. "Ah, look, he's glaring. There must be truth to it. That would explain why he was rather easy to catch." Mirthful eyes flicked to Daiki. "You told a secret, didn't you? Tsk-tsk, that sort of dishonesty is bad for business, don't you know. Not that you have a business anymore. And I'm sure you're aware there are people other than the girl willing to pay a nice sum for you, dead or alive."

Tetsu was released and he quivered where he hung, but Daiki could stomach the betrayal in his eyes better than his blood splashed all over the deck, and met his accusing gaze with a defiant glare of his own. _How dare you give up. And how dare you expect me to just let you die._

"It's true," Daiki said as Tetsu's expression retreated into eerie blankness, closing like a door that may never open again. "He really can't use—" What had Tetsu called it? "—Spellsong."

Hanamiya looked between them. "Consider me intrigued. Can he still sing?"

"He can." Daiki traded blazing defiance for the cold burn of hatred as he redirected his attention. "So it would be in your best interests to treat him well."

"What a touching display of inter-species affection," Hanamiya said with a leer. "Rest assured, he is worth ten times more than you, and shall be handled with the _utmost_ care. Shall we shake on it like gentlemen?"

"I'd sooner spit in your eye."

Hanamiya shook his head. "Well, I've no use for a beast that would bite the hand that tries to feed it. I hope you enjoyed this little show, because the rest of the trip will be rather unpleasant for you I'm afraid."

Daiki was shoved and dragged towards the open hatch leading below. "One of these days, Hanamiya…" He jammed an elbow into the ribs of the man behind him and nearly got a swing in at the captain's smug face. "One of these days you'll get what's coming to you, and I hope to god or even the devil that I'll be the one giving it!"

The men were more thorough chaining Daiki in the hold this time, clamping cold, heavy iron around his ankles and roughing him up some for all the grief he'd visited on them previously. Bruised and battered everywhere, he'd probably have slipped into unconsciousness on his own, but before they left one of them stuck him with a long, thin spine coated in something nefarious no doubted cooked up by the captain. Daiki's vision swam as footsteps retreated, and the hatch closed to douse the hold in darkness.

He closed his eyes, and the world became darker still.

#

They drugged him regularly—or what he could assume was regular. Daiki quickly lost track of time down below. He was certain that the food and rancid water provided were sporadic just to keep him guessing whether the next meal would come at all. Not that he had much of an appetite, or the stomach to keep anything down. Whether it was the drug, or the food and water having gone bad, half the time it ended up a mess on the floor. Considering what the ship was made to transport, Daiki figured that was nothing new.

In his more lucid moments he attempted productivity. He left the chain's anchor in the ceiling alone since any tampering with it would be too visible. Instead, he worked on prying slivers of wood loose to try and pick the locks of the manacles. It was a slow and mostly likely useless endeavor. The _Belladonna_ was a well-kept ship, sturdy and hale, and not inclined to shed splinters for him. To add to that, he was not often clear-headed enough for the tedious work, either.

Then there were the nightmares and hallucinations. He dreamed and couldn't be sure if he was asleep. Other times he knew very well that he was asleep, but was unable to wake up.

To think he'd been worried about going mad on an island in broad daylight. Daiki could have laughed. Sometimes he did, and hoped the noise of it kept Hanamiya and his damned crew up at night.

#

The sun was blisteringly hot and Daiki could feel every second of slow burn on his skin. He lay on his back, baking in the sand. Lethargy made him heavy and he drowsed, content, with nothing but brightness blanking out the corners of his mind.

A wash of cold so sharp it hurt came rolling in around his legs, but still he did not move. The grit of wet sand clung to him. He breathed in deeply, and salt stung his nose. The next wave flooded all the way up to his chin; he almost floated, and was dragged down slightly by the pull of the retreating water.

Daiki opened his eyes when a cool shadow fell over him, dripping water onto his face. A droplet slid between his lips as they parted and he tasted copper. He saw red. "Sorry," he said. "I—"

The sea rushed up to swallow him. It drew him in, deep into its depths, fading blue and green and finally black all around, a chill embrace. He thought he saw a pale flash vanish before his eyes, and then nothing.

#

The scene played out more or less the way Daiki remembered it: his nine-and-a-half-year-old self confronted by a mix of other boys and girls down by the river. Most of their faces were a blur, his memory could only recall so much, but here and there was an odd detail that stuck out. A gap-toothed smile, a smattering of freckles. The oldest of the group had a crooked nose from smashing face-first into a door. He was twelve, and bitter that Daiki had already surpassed him in height. Apparently, having the rest of the orphanage's wayward pack behind him helped make up for that extra inch, and despite the vague cloud obscuring his expression he radiated arrogance.

Satsuki was exactly how Daiki remembered, round-cheeked and red-eyed from crying. Some girls cried prettily but she was not one of them, her face a mess of tears and snot as she threw her head back and wailed.

The sound made him want to punch something. That was a feeling from the present, not the past. In the past Daiki had only been bewildered and then affronted, glaring at the lot of them while gritting out, "It wasn't me."

"Liar," accused the leader. Daiki should have known his name, but it was lost in a haze. He knew how the boy had died, though, in an accident at the dockyard where he'd found work. The story went that he hit his head and fell into the harbor. The boy standing in front of him was suddenly sixteen, bigger and broader, with blood streaking over the muddied features of his face. "You stole them, Suzume-chan saw you in the girls' room."

Suzume's head bobbed up and down in rapid, twitchy nods. She had feathers sticking out from underneath her clothes. "Right next to Satsuki-chan's bed, too!"

Daiki's hands balled into tight fists. "I was putting them _back_. I found them in the hall because she's always dropping them everywhere. This is the third time already!" All this fuss over a pair of earrings. Granted, they were pink pearls. Granted, they were all Satsuki had left from her recently deceased mother. But if they were so important, why did she keep losing them? Her sniffling stopped and her eyes grew wide as Daiki got right in her face and flicked her hair aside, revealing a bare and smooth earlobe. "Just wear them and save us all the trouble!"

She went watery again, screaming in his face. " _Stupid Dai-chan!_ " That was an embellishment from the dream. She didn't start calling him familiarly until after this, when he'd made a promise to never steal, no matter what, cross his heart and hope to die.

Regardless of his denial, the earrings were still missing and the accusations went on. Daiki's protests were drowned out by a dozen other voices until someone finally growled, "Would all of you shut up? If he says he didn't take them, he didn't take them."

Everyone stopped and stared. Taiga was even newer than Satsuki, and it was the first time anyone had heard him speak. Until then, they'd thought he was shy.

He looked right at Daiki with all the fire and light of his grown self. "Wake up, bastard, you have worse things than squabbling kids to deal with."

#

Daiki woke up to see Hanamiya's ghastly face illuminated by lantern light. After days or maybe even weeks in the dark, a single candle flame was searingly bright. Hanamiya chuckled at his flinch.

"Having sweet dreams?"

It was a shame Daiki hadn't eaten recently. He could have heaved it all up in Hanamiya's direction, maybe even on his person. "Yeah, just fuckin' wonderful." The ship gave a sickening roll; perhaps his stomach would oblige him after all. Daiki clutched at the edge of the shelf, rolling to prop himself up on his elbows and squint into the swaying light.

"Excellent," Hanamiya said, savoring the word. He brought the lantern closer as he bent down near Daiki's face. "I thought you might wish to hear news of your valuable friend. Ah, but," his mouth cut a crescent of a grin, "not quite so priceless anymore, if you get my meaning. In which case, we'll make the most profit if we sell in parts—"

"Stop lying," Daiki said, low and guttural, and his arm shot out faster than even he knew he could move. His hand closed on the front of a coat and he yanked. He could smash Hanamiya's smirking face in like this.

The light swung wildly in Hanamiya's grip, and slow, sibilant hissing poured from his curling lips as the corners of his mouth pulled up, up, and up, splitting his cheeks to the ears the way a knife would. Then the flesh of his face separated, jaw coming unhinged, and elongated teeth pushed through the stretch of his gums. Poison dripped and sizzled where it ate into wood before Daiki's eyes.

He thrust Hanamiya away. Folds of cloth crumpled to the floor around a smooth, twisting body scaled in bright warning colors, and glass shattered as the lantern broke, spilling oil that caught flame. The snake's shadow slithered along the opposite wall.

Without warning the ship rocked violently, and there was fire in Daiki's face and Hanamiya's serpent head rearing back, mouth open, black eyes gleaming with malevolence.

A boom and a crack sounded. Wood groaned, then burst apart, and the hold was awash in swirling seawater. The heat and light of the fire was swallowed up immediately, leaving only trace amounts of flame clinging to bits of wood. Salt and smoke stung Daiki's nostrils while furious hissing filled his ears. Hanamiya turned to the hole opened up in the ship, winding towards it, and as he neared an enormous shape shoved inside.

If snakes could scream, that would be the sound Hanamiya made as a beaked mouth opened and snapped shut, clipping the length of him in half and putting an end to the enraged cry. His tail writhed alone in the water that continued to spray in around the monstrously large turtle's mottled head.

It fixed Daiki with an inscrutable look.

_You owe a debt._

Then it pulled away, and with nothing to plug the hole the water came in rushing, rushing, and rushing all around.

#

The dreams kept coming; terrible nightmares and strangeness and patchwork memories.

In one he ran with Taiga through a field of sugar cane under a moon that was far too big, swollen and bone-white in a starless sky. The barking of dogs in pursuit lent Taiga a terrified speed that surpassed Daiki's, and he vanished ahead through the rustling stalks.

In another the faces of his former crewmates surrounded him, red from drinking after a successful transport, and then bloated with death as fish picked at their bones on the bottom of the sea.

Worst of all were the peaceful dreams, the lilt of Satsuki's laughter and homey warmth of Taiga's forge. Those left him with the cruel taste of hope in his mouth.

He dreamed often of Tetsu. The graceful curve of his body, the mess of his hair after waking up, the way he said Daiki's name. The accusation in his eyes. In most dreams he disappeared, finning away to where Daiki couldn't follow, or Daiki would roll over on that damned uncomfortable rock in the grotto to find Tetsu had simply vanished.

Once, he heard singing. He was staring into the darkness of the ship's hold when the muffled strains of a song seeped through the walls, and he nearly fell over trying to determine where it was coming from. The chains wouldn't let him go far and their rattling drowned out the faint voice, so Daiki curled up and stayed motionless on the floor, just listening.

He thought that dream might have been real, but if it was, he couldn't imagine why the song seemed to say, "I'm sorry…"

#

There was a difference in the air Daiki breathed in, a trace of crisp freshness cutting through the dank, sour smells of the hold. He cracked his eyes open to see a bright shaft of light spilling from the hatch to the floor. One, two, three shadows passed through it, thumping down the steps to crowd at the bottom.

"That's him, I take it?" A new voice, speaking unhurried and impersonal. One of the indistinct shapes separated and came forward. A cool, dry touch pressed over Daiki's forehead, then moved lower to check his breathing and his pulse. "Dehydrated and malnourished for certain. In addition, he's mostly likely ill from repeat poisoning." The diagnosis was clinical, but then the speaker added with an edge of reproach, "I trust there are no permanent effects?"

"Hard to say." Hanamiya's words were carried on a surly note that Daiki didn't have the energy to savor. "He started to resist the toxin so I had to increase the dosage. Only way to keep someone like him under control."

"I've no interest in your reasons, only the results."

Hanamiya spat, a sure sign of his agitation. The less in control he was of a situation, the cruder he got. "He's alive, the terms are fulfilled. There _are_ others offering higher rewards for his shitty carcass…"

"In monetary value, perhaps. Is that what you want, Makoto? It's of no consequence to me if you wish to renegotiate, although such a change may impact future business."

Low cursing could be heard, and a rattle from something being kicked. Then: "Whatever. Take him and get the hell off my ship. You think you have this city at your feet for now, but people like you never last."

There was a pause as Hanamiya turned to go. Then the stranger spoke, perfectly measured and even, "I think no such thing, but your opinion is noted. Until next time, Makoto."

Footsteps fled up the stairs, and Daiki let out a huff of breath that almost passed for a laugh. His vision still swam around the outlines of the two people remaining, one of them looming silent in the background while the other gazed down at Daiki. The features of his face were a blur, but when he stepped away and moved towards the exit a flag of red caught the light. "We're done here. Atsushi, bring him."


End file.
